Vignette Fourteen - The Surprising Sound of a Clue
by jellybean49
Summary: Jack and Elizabeth unexpectedly find themselves in a strange and dire situation. Can they make it through the next few days?
1. Chapter 1

**_Dear Readers: This is 14th of my vignettes. They go in sequential order, but each one has a different unique theme. I hope you have fun reading all of them._**

" **Jack and Elizabeth Vignette One"**

" **Vignette Two – The Cold Winter" -Jack and Elizabeth cope with the rough winter.**

" **Vignette Three – The Test: Don't Fail Me Now" – It's fun and romantic.**

 **"Vignette Four – Gypsy Woes" - The most light-hearted in my mind.**

 **"Vignette Five - Blind Faith" -Drama, Suspense, New Friends, and powerful love.**

 **"Vignette Six - Wedding Dust" –The romance of getting married and the hours afterwards.**

 **"Vignette Seven - The Rules of being a Wife" -Jack and Elizabeth's first weeks as husband and wife.**

" **Vignette Eight – Changes" - Elizabeth's in danger . . . and so is Jack. Lots of drama.**

" **Vignette Nine – The Lingering Scent of Lavender - A ghost story.**

" **Vignette Ten – Snowfall" -The newest member of the Thornton family arrival.**

" **Vignette Eleven – Wishes and the Necessary Vessel" -Elizabeth's innocent wishes take a strange turn.**

" **Vignette Twelve – Time" - A injured Jack tries to make it home to his family.**

 **"** **Vignette Thirteen – Poetic Justice" – Elizabeth and her son find themselves in the midst of a criminal plot.**

 **VIGNETTE 14 - THE SURPRISING SOUND OF A CLUE**

 **Chapter 1**

"I think our son is deaf," Elizabeth announced worriedly as she stared at little Jack Thatcher Thornton who was crawling across the floor of the main room of the old mercantile building which was now the Thornton's living room.

Jack and Elizabeth had been living in Bear Creek for more than a year now. When they had arrived in the town which was slightly bigger in population and size than Hope Valley for Jack's new assignment, the building in the center of town was the only available space for the growing family. Situated directly across from the jailhouse, it had been perfect for them. First as a temporary schoolroom and then as their baby's first home. With its large front room designed for customers and shelves of merchandise, it was the perfect place for a baby to crawl and explore.

Jack looked up from his cup of coffee and chucked softly. "What are you talking about? Our son is not deaf."

"I think he may be. I'm really worried", Elizabeth replied as she ran her fingers on the cover of the children's book on her lap and continued to apprehensively stare at their son.

"Why would our son be deaf?" an amused Jack asked.

"I don't know", she whined. "Maybe it's congenital. Or maybe it was a loud noise he was exposed to. Or that time I had scarlet fever."

"You had Scarlet fever, not him", Jack reminded her with a smile.

"Maybe he got it through my breast milk."

"He did not get anything through your breast milk except a full stomach. He is not deaf."

Jack looked at his son who had stopped crawling on the floor and was now lying on his back and playing with the toes. "He is perfectly fine. Stop worrying. You worry about everything with him. Last week you thought he wasn't gaining enough weight and the week before you thought he was gaining too much."

"This is different! This is mother's intuition."

"Mother's intuition?"

"Yes, mother's intuition."

"Well, my Mountie's intuition tells me that he is just fine," Jack remarked with a smile. He picked up the newspaper and continued to read an article on the heat wave which was threatening to kill crops in the area.

"He's not responding to the sound of my voice. I noticed it yesterday. And then again today."

"Why should he? You are around him constantly. You read to him constantly. You talk to him constantly. I'd be more surprised if he _did_ react to the sound of your voice. Your silence would catch his attention", Jack teased.

"It's not just that. He never cries."

"What are you talking about?" Jack asked in disbelief. "He was colicky for weeks. All he did was cry. Every night I paced the floor with him!"

"But not recently," Elizabeth insisted.

"Because he's a happy baby. He gets fed. He gets changed. He gets more attention than any baby has the right to."

"He _should_ react to me when I talk to him", Elizabeth insisted.

"Elizabeth, he is fine. He's quietly entertaining himself on the floor. Let him be."

"Watch", Elizabeth instructed.

"Thatch, sweetie, come to mommy and I'll read you a book," Elizabeth called out to the little boy.

Thatch, as Jack Thatcher Thornton was usually called, continued to lay on the floor indifferent to Elizabeth's voice. The only difference from his early position was that he was now pulling on the tail of the family cat, who had lain down next to him.

"Mommy will read to you", Elizabeth tried again, keeping her voice sounding happy and inviting. "Come here and sit on my lap."

The little boy moved his head sideways to avoid the swatting tail of the cat but ignored Elizabeth.

"It's a wonderful book. With pictures of your ABCs."

The despair was evident on Elizabeth's face as she looked at Jack; her son hadn't reacted at all to the sound of her voice.

"See! He didn't even react to me."

Jack smiled at Elizabeth. Without a word to her, he turned his face towards Thatch and spoke in the normal volume of his voice. "Son, how'd you like to go see the horsies?"

The effect was immediate.

Thatch smiled and make a gleeful sound as he turned to look at Jack. He hastily turned over and began crawling to his father.

Jack chuckled and stretched out his arms, picking up his son.

"It looks like we are going to the livery. Wave bye-bye to mommy", Jack instructed as he carried his son on his hip and walked towards the front door.

Thatch, babbled a bye-bye, and happily stretched his arm out, opening and closing his pudgy little hand towards a flabbergasted Elizabeth as he eagerly looked forward to visiting the livery.

* * *

While the males in the family were giving attention to horses rather than a slighted Elizabeth, she pulled several articles of clothing from the bedroom closet, removed them from their hangars, and began to neatly fold them.

 _Horses! Big stupid animals over a book!_

 _He'll never be a teacher like me if he prefers horses over books!,_ she thought in disgust _._

When she had a stack of four blouses and four shirts, she put the pile in the corner of the room and moved to the baby's drawer, where she took out several items, folded them, and added them to the pile.

The trip to Hamilton wasn't for another two days, but with the house now quiet it was the perfect opportunity to do some packing for the two-week trip.

It would take three days to travel by train to Hamilton and another three days to return home. That left them eight days to visit family.

Last week, over a breakfast of bacon and eggs, Jack had been holding his son on one knee and trying to eat with one hand while Elizabeth had read aloud the latest letter from her parents. Grace and William Thatcher had made it clear that the Thorntons were overdue for a visit.

Expecting Jack to come up with a reason why a trip to Hamilton wasn't practical, Elizabeth had set down the letter, poured herself some more orange juice, and had already decided she wouldn't argue with him. But to her surprise, Jack had stopped eating and pensively looked at her for a moment before responding that it was a great idea.

"A great idea? Did you hear what I said? Mother and father want us to come for a visit."

"I heard you."

"You hate Hamilton."

Jack had swallowed a forkful of eggs before replying casually. "I don't hate Hamilton. I admit that I didn't like it when we were first courting, but that was a long time ago."

"Jack, you really want to go to Hamilton? Fancy restuarants with fancy overpriced meals? Fancy people with fancy overindulgent attitudes? You can handle that?" she had asked skeptically.

Jack had leaned back in his chair and given Elizabeth a tired look. "We need a vacation."

Her face went from skeptical to sympathetic as she looked at her husband. Her mind going over the exhausting and harrowing past few months.

 _I had Scarlet Fever._

 _Jack's been busy with advanced training course._

 _And he was attacked and almost killed by that awful mountain man with an ax._

 _The baby and I somehow . . . although I still barely believe it. . .ended up in the midst of that devious plot to cause a rise in cattle prices, and well . . . then we were both taken hostage._

 _My goodness, we do need a vacation!_

Thirty minutes later, the breakfast food had been forgotten at the table, as the couple had checked their calendars, sent a telegram to Hamilton, and eagerly planned their vacation.

* * *

"We'll stay at my parents", Elizabeth said. Her head rested on Jack's chest as they lay in bed that night. His arm surrounded her. Through the open window came the sound of chirping crickets and sometimes, if they were lucky, a light breeze which made the curtains flutter.

"That will be nice. You can use a little pampering."

"So can you." Elizabeth ran her fingers along Jack's torso. "We'll have breakfast served every morning, our beds made for us, our laundry done."

"Dinners of filet mignon."

"And ice cream", Elizabeth said as she pictured the cool delicious treat which seemed to appear as if by magic in the hands of a servant at her family's dinner table in Hamilton, and was a sad rarity in rural Bear Creek.

"You can buy some new clothes."

"I'll have a chauffeur to take me places."

"Maybe I'll even drive your father's car", Jack added as he stroked Elizabeth's hair and thought about the deep green colored Roadster with leather seats which was kept parked in the garage behind the Hamilton mansion.

"We can try a shower. Mother liked the one they had installed in her bathroom so much, that she had one put in for company."

Jack didn't respond immediately, and after a while Elizabeth wondered if he had fallen asleep. She wouldn't blame him if he had; it had been another long day for him with his Mountie duties.

She was almost asleep herself, when she felt her hand being lifted up. Without saying a word, Jack brought the hand to his lips.

He kissed it slowly. Taking his time. Letting his lips remain against her flesh.

These were the moments she liked best. The soft quiet moments.

Well, maybe not _best._ Because what he started to do next, she liked even better.

He shifted his body, rolled on top of her, and supported himself on one bent forearm. His lips were warm and sensual as he kissed the skin left bare as his fingers pushed aside the top of her nightdress.

He took his time, enjoying the taste of her skin.

Cupping her face with one hand, he moved his lips to hers, kissed her passionately, and then returned his attention to her bare skin.

When he ran his tongue down her cleavage, a tingling went down her torso.

Her skin already warm from the late summer's humid night air became more heated by his touch.

* * *

On Tuesday morning, the platform at the station was loud and crowded.

The train, which was scheduled to stop in Bear Creek twice a week, had cancelled last week's Thursday's arrival, disappointing more than dozen passengers. Those passengers, now holding new tickets, were currently sharing the platform with two families taking advantage of the school holiday, several cattlemen going to a conference in Calgary, three traveling salesmen, a young lady going off to a new career as a Secretary in Montreal, a man with an engagement ring in his pocket who was waiting for his love to disembark, and an assortment of other travelers, including the three Thorntons.

"Are you sure you locked the door?"

"Yes. It's locked. And, Elizabeth, the jailhouse is right across the street. The substitute Mountie will keep an eye on the place. For goodness sakes, he can't help but notice if someone were to break in. And Lucy will keep an eye on the library for us. And she and Michael will take care of Rip and Comet. Everything is taken care. Stop worrying. We're on vacation."

When the train pulled in late, ten minutes past the scheduled arrival time, the scene became a chaotic hum and buzz of activity as passengers without assigned seats jostled to get aboard while others attempted to disembark.

The Thorntons, holding tickets to a private compartment, stood back from the crowd to avoid the shoving when passengers realized that some of the car doors were broken and that travelers were being funneled into the functioning doors.

A tired-looking train attendant pointed down the platform as he called out to the crowd. "These doors are broken. Ticket holders for compartments 12 through 20, you must enter and pass through another car to get to your reserved seats! These doors are broken! Use the doors at the other ends."

"We're in compartment 16", Jack remarked as he looked at his ticket. Elizabeth held their son in one arm and a small bag in the other, while Jack carried the two heavy bags down the platform as smoke from the engine's stack attempted to billow through the sky.

The air was so humid that the grey smoke seemed to remain stagnant over the platform as the Thorntons climbed aboard the locomotive.

* * *

Elizabeth wondered why they had bothered paying the extra charge for a private compartment.

An older woman – who Elizabeth guessed to be between the ages of 55 to 60 – had been walking by the open door of their compartment when she caught sight of the Thornton family. Deciding that little Jack Thatcher Thornton was the most precious baby ever to live, she had made herself at home on the leather upholstered bench-seat next to Elizabeth. Ooohing and awing over the boy, asking Elizabeth questions, and keeping a conversation going for more than an hour.

"It's going to rain", the woman said for the third time as she finally stood up and excused herself to go to the dining car for a drink. "My shoulder always lets me know."

"Are you sure you don't want to come for a bit of refreshment? Your husband can watch the boy", the woman said with a glance to Jack, who looked up from the book he was reading.

Elizabeth managed a small smile but politely declined.

She didn't want to hear any more about the woman's pregnant daughter, or her husband's prize steer, or the quilt she was making. And if she had to hear one more time about the woman's arthritic shoulder and how it always ached when it was going to rain, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from giving the woman a science lesson on humidity and weather patterns.

Elizabeth just wanted silence. Beautiful peaceful silence.

* * *

The silence on the train was getting overwhelming boring.

"Any idea how much longer it will be?" Elizabeth called out to Jack. She was leaning across the open window sill of the train compartment looking at her husband who was approaching from the outside.

Forty minutes earlier, the train had been speeding along at a nice peaceful rhythm. The compartment's three occupants had the bottom half of the locomotive's window pushed up, and a continuous rush of air had kept them cool. Elizabeth had been reading a book, Thatch had been asleep on the floor in a bed of blankets, and Jack had been dozing off himself when suddenly the train, which had been traveling swiftly through valleys and open fields, had begun to jerk slightly and then slowed down considerably until it finally came to a complete stop.

Jack had immediately opened his eyes and looked curiously at Elizabeth, who had merely shrugged.

When the couple looked out the window, they had seen nothing but trees. There were no homes. No buildings. No signs announcing that they were on the outskirts of a town.

This was most definitely not a scheduled stop.

After ten minutes of sitting in the compartment, which was getting warmer and warmer as the train baked in the sun, and wondering what had caused the stop, Jack and Elizabeth noticed passengers disembarking from the front of the train. A minute later, the conductor had knocked on their door.

A minor broken piece of equipment. It should take an hour to fix. That's what the conductor had said as he recommended they walk around outside and stretch their legs. Elizabeth had encouraged Jack to go outside while she fed the baby.

Now, as she set the well-fed boy on the floor, she buttoned her blouse and waited for Jack to come closer.

"No idea. The engineer said it may be another 45 minutes", Jack replied to her question. He stood under the window looking up at her.

"It's stifling in here. We'll join you."

"There's apparently a waterfall close by. Want to go check it out?"

Elizabeth handed the baby out the window to Jack. "Sounds good."

"What are you doing?!" Jack said in alarm as Elizabeth swung a small bag over her shoulder and began climbing out the window herself.

"The doors in this car are broken, and it's too far to go all the way down to the next open door. This train is too hot and crowded to fight the people probably still milling in the aisle. I want off." Elizabeth answered as she held her skirt up to her thighs and swung her legs over the windowsill. "Help me down."

"You're pregnant!"

"Just barely. Now help me"

Jack set Thatch on the ground, and with an amused look on his face, reached out and grasped Elizabeth by the waist, helping her to the dirt. "You really are amazing. Always a surprise."

* * *

As they walked towards the wood-line, they passed other passengers, already on their way back to the train, having visited the waterfall while Elizabeth had been feeding the baby. They nodded hello or paused to speak briefly.

"It's beautiful", a mother remarked to them as she held tightly to the hand of her eight-year old daughter. "This one wanted to jump in."

"So much cooler than the stuffy train", a lady in a paisley dress explained as she passed them with a smile.

"We dipped our toes in", a man – who appeared to be in his early twenties – remarked as he held the hand of a blushing young lady, who appeared to also be in her twenties and totally enamored by the man at her side who had taken off his jacket and had his sleeves rolled up.

Elizabeth was beginning to wonder if perhaps the passengers were delusional from the heat when they entered the woods and she immediately felt relief in the shade of the trees' canopy.

"It's probably ten or fifteen degrees cooler than on that train or by the tracks", Jack remarked as Elizabeth sighed in pleasure while they walked towards the distant sounds of the waterfall.

"Too bad we don't have our bathing suits", a man called out with a good-natured chuckle before taking a long breath on his cigarette and walking past them, moving out of the way as they came side by side next to some large pine trees.

"It's beautiful!" exclaimed Elizabeth as the stream came into view. The steep descent of the water as it rapidly tumbled over the rocks looked cool and inviting.

* * *

A short time later, the rush of the water as it plummeted over the rocks drowned out the sound of the train's ten-minute warning whistle.

The man in the blue uniform with grey piping on the slacks walked along the side of the locomotive from the engine towards the caboose, urging the passengers along as they hurried to climb back aboard and resume their journey.

"Let's go. All aboard."

"That was the five-minute warning whistle", he bellowed exactly five minutes later when the whistle pierced the air.

When the conductor, sweating from the heat, reached the caboose, he turned around and began walking back the length of the train towards the engine, scanning the forest as he walked and listening to the engineer blow the two-minute warning whistle.

He glanced at his watch. Counting down the last final two minutes.

The final minute.

The final seconds.

Grabbing a hold of the railing, he hoisted himself aboard the first car just as a train attendant entered.

"Every compartment is occupied and I didn't notice anyone missing from the unreserved seats", the attendant declared.

"Let's get this train back on schedule!" the conductor shouted out to the engineer as he gave him the thumbs up.

* * *

"I love you", Jack declared as he looked at Elizabeth crouched down on the shallow edge of the pool of water at the base of the falls.

She had taken off that baby's socks and was holding him up as his feet cooled in the water while she pointed out parts of the waterfall, which awed the boy with its powerful rush. She looked so natural with their son in the wilderness that Jack couldn't help but smile.

Elizabeth turned and grinned back at Jack. "I love you too."

"We should get back to the train. Find out how much longer it will be", Jack remarked as he reached for the boy and took him from Elizabeth's arms.

He glanced around and with a surprise realized that they were the only three people left in area. They had been enjoying the scenery so much that Jack, usually so observant, hadn't even noticed as the other passenger had wandered back towards the train.

Thatch promptly indicated that he wanted to ride on Jack's shoulders. With a gentle instruction to hold on tight, Jack hoisted him over his head and placed his legs securely around his neck.

"It's just so beautifully peaceful here", Elizabeth remarked. "It's like we're in a paradise."

"This has been a nice unexpected break but I hope they've got the train fixed. It's still another five hours to the next station."

Elizabeth reached out and took Jack's hand as she clamored on the rocks, and the family made their way back through the trees to the railroad tracks.

* * *

"I don't understand! Where is it?! How could it leave without us?!" a shocked Elizabeth exclaimed.

When the family emerged from the woods, they had looked around in confusion. Wondering if perhaps they had come out of the woods at the wrong place.

But there were the tracks. Right there in front of them.

The same tracks on which the train had been. The same tracks were the train was supposed to still be.

"Stay calm", Jack instructed as he tried to take his own advice. Which was considerably hard to do with a wife and young child stranded in the middle of nowhere.

Hundreds of miles from the nearest town.

With no supplies. No horse. No camping gear.

"They were supposed to blow a ten-minute warning whistle!"

"They must have. We just didn't hear it over the waterfall." Jack looked at his watch. "We were gone about 20 minutes. They probably blew it right about the time we got there. And we missed hearing the subsequent whistles too."

"But how could they leave us?!"

Jack stared off in the distance. His eyes following the tracks. "If they don't get too far and realize they've left us, they'll be able to back up. As long as it's straight tracks. But I don't see them."

"How long do think it will be until they notice we're missing?"

"I'm surprised they didn't notice already", Jack said with a frown. "They should have checked each compartment before they left. What kind of derelict train company is this?"

Elizabeth suddenly got a stricken look on her face. "Oh my God, no", she said in despair as she looked down the long line of empty tracks. "I locked the compartment door and put a 'do not disturb' sign on it."

"You what?!"

"I was breastfeeding the baby and didn't want the train conductor or that irritating woman to bother me. And then I climbed out the window. The door is still locked with the note on the door."

"But they should have looked in the compartment windows", Jack countered.

"I closed those little curtains. I was breastfeeding," she repeated apologetically.

They think we're in our compartment", Jack said quietly as he realized that the train probably wouldn't be coming back for them anytime soon. Or even today.

And most likely not tomorrow either.

They were alone. Except for the elements of nature.

Jack turned around in a 360 degree circle looking for something to make the situation not so dire.

There was nothing.

He saw a vast wilderness and empty train tracks. His wife in her fancy traveling clothes and expensive new shoes, and his little boy in an adorable outfit looked totally out of place. As if the large hand of a mythical god had picked them up from a city and dropped them into the most alien place possible.

Jack didn't want to think about how he was going to be able to provide and protect his family for the next forty-eight hours.

All he could think about was what they didn't have. No horse. No tent. No hatchet. No food. No canteen.

 **Up next: Chapter 2**


	2. Chapter 2 - The River

**Chapter 2 – The River**

Jack and Elizabeth waited an hour by the tracks. Looking east. Looking west. But there was nothing. No smoke in the distance coming towards them.

Jack took one of Thatch's white diapers from Elizabeth's small shoulder bag and attached it to a long stick which he then staked in the ground by the tracks as a marker for where the train had stopped.

Finally, they both conceded that they weren't doing anything productive by standing near the tracks, and they hiked to higher ground where Jack hoped to get a better view of their surroundings.

Their surroundings. Trees. Pine trees. Oak trees. Beech trees. Hills of trees.

A waterfall. A river.

Empty train tracks in the distance.

 _Well this is disappointing!_ Elizabeth thought in exasperation as they turned and made their way back down the steep hillside.

* * *

"My feet hurt. I hate to complain but can we sit for a while?", Elizabeth asked as she stumbled over another tree root.

The trip down the hill had been faster than the long climb up, and they were making their way through the woods at the base of the incline.

"Here. You take Thatch", Jack said as he took the boy from his shoulders which were damp with sweat and handed him to Elizabeth. "Sit for a bit. I'll gather some firewood for tonight."

Grateful for the break, Elizabeth set Thatch on the ground and wondered if the little boy was ever going to learn to walk. He immediately set off crawling on the forest ground which was blanketed with layers of decaying leaves and pine needles.

As she sat herself down, she gave up worrying about him getting dirty.

 _I'm not even going to try to keep him neat_ , she conceded as she looked at her smartly dressed son in a white short-sleeve shirt and navy-blue shorts held up with suspenders. One minute on the ground and he was already squishing his hand in the soil.

* * *

Something was off.

She just didn't know what.

But as Elizabeth sat on the ground, looking at her sore feet and rubbing her soles, waiting for Jack to come back and listening to her son shaking his rattle toy, she had the feeling in the back of her mind that something just wasn't right.

Without looking up, she pushed a stray piece of hair off of her face, and then moved to massaging her toes forward and backward. Her feet would be blistered by tomorrow and she silently cursed the shoes she had chosen to wear.

Something was definitely off.

Something.

A nanosecond later Elizabeth realized with a jolt what was wrong and she jerked her head up.

Thatch didn't have his rattle with him; it was back home sitting on the kitchen counter in Bear Creek where she had left it.

And yet . . . she distinctly heard rattling coming from his direction.

"Thatch. Come to mommy", Elizabeth pleasantly instructed as she tried to keep the fear out of her voice when she looked at the source of the rattling sound.

The little boy had stopped crawling in the forest undergrowth and was curiously looking at the object in front of him. Naively unaware of the danger, he giggled happily at the snake with its pretty brown spots outlined in black on the lightly colored tan body.

The snake was easily two feet in length. Maybe three, but Elizabeth wasn't in the mood to measure.

Before leaving home to teach in Coal Valley, while still living in her privileged pampered lifestyle she wouldn't have known what it was. Other than an unwanted reptile. But after years of living away from Hamilton, she knew exactly what it was. A Massasauga Rattler.

The snake's nest of fallen leaves contained fifteen miniature versions of itself. If Elizbeth was concerned about her son, the snake, normally sluggish and apt to avoid confrontation, was likewise concerned about its offspring.

Although slow moving when slithering along the ground, the rattler, when feeling threatened, could strike its target in an instant.

And right now the snake was feeling threatened.

Trying to keep one eye on Thatch, Elizabeth hurriedly picked up her shoe; the only object in her vicinity which she could throw.

Thatch ignored his mother's voice, and moved a few inches closer to the snake before stopping again.

It was the most interesting creature he had seen in a long time. Although it was much smaller than the family dog and much much smaller than his father's horse, it had a much more interesting look to it. He liked the way it arched itself, winding its three-inch thick coil body on the ground. And it had a rattle! The sound reminded him of his own silver rattle.

"Jack", Elizabeth whispered urgently.

He was walking up behind her with sticks of wood in his arms. Jack froze, slowly set down the branches, and then reached for his weapon from the holster on his hip. It was the one valuable object, other than the matches in his pocket, that he had with him when he had disembarked the train.

"No! You could hit him!" Elizabeth cautioned in a hoarse whisper. She lowered the shoe in her hand when she realized that as close as her son was to the snake, the shoe flying at them could cause the reptile to strike.

The three Thorntons stared at the snake as it continued to flick its tail about, making the distinctive sound which gave it its name.

Thatch looked at it with innocent curiosity.

Jack and Elizabeth looked at it with educated fear.

The snake, using its natural instinct to protect its young, flattened its body and inflated its lungs in an attempt to appear larger and more threatening.

"Thatch", Jack called out gently. But the boy, now mesmerized by the reptile's actions, ignored him.

"Son, come to daddy", Jack instructed.

Thatch made no attempt to move but instead watched in fascination as the snake lifted the first quarter of its body off the ground.

They were now the same height. The boy on his hands and knees. The snake raised in defiance.

Eye to eye.

The small boy's gentle innocent eyes lined with long lashes stared into the reptile's yellow pupils.

The air was still as every living creature waited.

The snake's move was quick!

A mock strike.

Despite anticipating that the snake might attack, its action still took Elizabeth by surprise and she involuntarily flinched. Her heart beat faster and she felt her nerves shaking as she tried to remain still.

Jack kept his handy steady. He slowly moved closer. Trying to approach from a different angle where he wouldn't risk a bullet hitting his son if he fired his weapon.

Startled by the snake's counterfeit motion, Thatch pulled his face back slightly and wavered for a moment on the verge of tears. But the snake enchanted him. After it's mock strike, it had returned to its stance.

When he saw the reptile flick its tongue, the little boy's momentary startlement vanished and was replaced by a smile.

Jack didn't smile. He knew what would come after the mock strike if the boy didn't back away.

The real strike.

Jack moved another two steps to the left, keeping enough distance so as not to alarm the reptile. All the while keeping his weapon aimed at the creature. He silently cursed when he saw Thatch reach out his tiny hand forward.

Jack was about to tell Thatch, who had already ignored his commands, to stop moving, when a strong voice broke the silence.

"Thatch, I need you to come to me. Now. I need you to come here," the firm voice instructed. It was clear and deliberate. No anger. No sweetness.

Thatch was surprised by the sudden firmness in his mother's voice.

This wasn't her voice at all. At least not the one he was used to hearing. His little face crinkled in confusion.

He didn't always understand the many words she used – especially when she read aloud from some of the thick books she always seemed to have- but he knew her voice. He knew the soft lilt when she sang to him and rocked him in her arms. He knew the way her voice changed inflection from suspenseful to happy when she told him a story. He knew the excitement in her voice when she showed him something new. He knew the quiet soothing sound of her voice in the dim evening light when he was tired.

Those were the sounds he associated with her voice.

And on a very rare occasion, she had used the tone he now heard. All Thatch knew was that when his mother had used that tone, it had preceded something that made him cry. Last time, she had ordered him not to touch the yellow and black flying thing and he had touched it anyway.

Thatch remembered the painful sting of the yellow and black bee. He would have preferred to have played with the long coiling rattling thing, but if his mother needed him to go to her, he would. He turned and crawled towards her.

Elizabeth quickly scooped her son into her arms and backed up several steps.

"Cover his ears", Jack ordered.

The blast from the weapon caused both Elizabeth to jump despite the warning, and Thatch to burst into tears from the noise despite Elizabeth's efforts to dull the sound with her hands.

* * *

Jack led the way through the forest while Elizabeth carried their son, his tears dried and quickly forgotten -at least by him. He rested on her hip. His little shoes pressing against her skirt and smudging it with dirt. The trio traveled the short distance to a rundown shack which Jack had found while he had been gathering firewood.

The building had never been a nice home which had simply fallen into disrepair over time. From what remained of the structure, it was apparent that it had always been a rudimentary habitat. Log walls, a window opening, and a roof.

It could barely call itself a home with its broken door and roughly built fireplace. The simple dirt floor with a few planks of wood, and the location of the building were enough clues that Elizabeth didn't even question whether the home had ever had plumbing or electricity. She would have been surprised if it ever had a clean person in it.

It was only the sound of thunder in the distance, that finally convinced Elizabeth to go inside.

After evicting the family of squirrels living in the back wall, Elizabeth set a squirming Thatch onto the floor. The small boy quickly crawled across the dirt until he reached Jack who had crouched down with his head inside the fireplace.

"There's some wood here and I'll bring some more inside to keep dry before the storm gets here. The chimney's intact enough to use", Jack said as he pulled out his head. "Keep Thatch inside", he added as his son started to follow him.

* * *

Despite the summer weather, the family sat by the fire, eating roasted rattlesnake. Although Elizabeth had been initially disgusted when Jack carried the dead serpent around his neck as they walked to the shack, she was now happy to eat the meal.

"It's not exactly filet mignon", Jack remarked as he handed another small piece of the meat to Thatch, who gobbled it up.

"A few more days and we'll be eating the most delicious meal ever. I'll make sure that Cook outdoes himself", Elizabeth replied.

"No sitting on a dirt floor in Hamilton?" Jack joked feebly.

"Our best silver. With candlesticks and fine china."

"And a long fancy tablecloth."

"From the finest store in all of Ontario," she reminded him.

"And after dinner, we'll go to bed on a soft queen-sized mattress."

"With thick pillows."

"Two for each of us," Jack replied.

"With a ceiling fan blowing cool air down onto us."

* * *

An hour later, the storm and come and gone. The family lay on the hard wood-planks which covered only a quarter of the dirt floor. More precisely, Jack and Elizabeth lay on the hard surface. The toddler lay on Jack's chest.

"This is so boring. I say we go back to the train tracks", Elizabeth suggested as she moved her arm under her head and tried to get comfortable. She felt a drop of sweat move down her forehead. The storm had somehow left the air even more muggy and stagnant.

"It doesn't matter", Jack replied. "When the train gets to its next station, the conductor will check each compartment for new passengers. They'll knock on our door to check our tickets, and when we don't answer, they'll find a way to open the door."

"But maybe they'll think we just got off and the door latch accidently closed or something."

"Our luggage is still there. They'll realize we wouldn't have gotten off at the station without our luggage. Then they'll figure out they left us when the train had stopped for repairs. I figure it will be five hours 'til the train reaches a station, then they'll alert authorities that we're missing."

"And then?"

"Either the next training coming through in two days will stop in the same location – when it gets word on approximately where our train had stopped and send out a search party for us. Or else, authorities will send a search party on horseback."

"Two days?!"

"Yeah. It might be sooner. If the station sends a telegram alerting other trains to stop here and look for us. They'll see the diaper on the stick and search for us. Either way, they'll blow the whistle and send someone to find us."

"Jack, I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"Not hearing the whistle over the waterfall."

"I didn't hear it either."

"The waterfall was beautiful", Elizabeth said wistfully. "Who knew it would be our downfall."

* * *

"I'm going to take these down to the river and wash them", Elizabeth said as she changed another diaper and released the squirming boy to wander the cabin.

She has hot, bored, and had two soiled diapers in her hand. If that wasn't enough, the cabin had an odd smell that reminded Elizabeth of the inside of a granary.

"What else you got in the bag of yours?" Jack asked.

"One more cloth diaper, a hair comb, and half a roll of Life Saver candies", she grumbled. "Not exactly provisions for three."

"We'll go with you to the river. We can look for some berries. I can probably find something to shoot at dusk. It's still to hot for animals to be grazing now."

"We've got a basket of pastries on the train." Elizabeth frowned as she remembered the provisions she had carefully packed for the long trip.

"What's this?" Jack asked as he pried an object from Thatch's grasp and held it up for Elizabeth to see. "Did you give it to him?"

The tube was five inches in length, copper, and apparently snipped from another piece leaving it was a sharp edge.

Thatch, relieved of his treasure but happy to share with his father, went in search of another.

"I didn't see it before. He's been crawling around. He must have picked it up."

Jack looked at the copper tube one more time and then put it in his pocket without another thought. It was most likely someone's rubbish from some time ago.

A minute later, Thatch had another item in his hand.

"What is it with that boy?!" Elizabeth said in slight exasperation as Thatch crawled out of the dimly lit corner of the shack. "Does he have to find every dangerous thing he can. First a snake, then that copper thing, and now that trash!"

"But this is useful", Jack said as he took the glass bottle from his son before the boy could break it. Jack brushed some dirt from the bottle and held it up.

* * *

The family made their way back towards the river but this time they stayed a short distance downstream from the powerful falls.

They drank thirstily. Using the bottle to be more civilized and because it was easier than lapping up the water from cupped hands.

Elizabeth, always the mother, insisted on washing Thatch's face. And his feet. And his hands. Finally, she just took off his diaper and allowed him to stand there with a bare bottom.

"He doesn't need it now, and I'll keep it clean for later", she explained to Jack.

Jack took off his own shoes and rolled up his pant legs.

"Let him play a bit in the water. We'll look for fish", Jack offered as he took the boy's hand and encouraged him to practice walking.

"Don't let him drown", Elizabeth reminded Jack as he and Thatch stepped into the six to seven-inch deep water on the edge of the river bank.

Jack rolled his eyes at Elizabeth and continued to hold his son's hand.

"He is not going to drown", he responded dismissively but nonetheless carefully checked the water's speed and his footing. _She worries about everything_! he thought with a comical shake of his head.

* * *

Elizabeth, her hands washing diapers in the flow of the river, thought the entire situation was quite comical.

In a non-humorous way.

 _Maybe when I am in Hamilton explaining it to the family, I'll be able to laugh about it._

 _City girl turned small-town lady becomes pioneer woman,_ she reflected wryly as she wrung out a wet diaper.

She looked around at her surroundings and smiled at her son who was giggling as he splashed water on Jack's legs.

 _What is that?_ Elizabeth thought curiously as she glanced along the shoreline in the opposite direction and something caught her eye.

The object was partially in the water, although Elizabeth wasn't sure how much was submerged. She couldn't even tell what it was from the distance.

Glancing at Jack, who was now holding Thatch and giving him a lesson on fish, Elizabeth spread the cleaned wet diapers on a large flat rock and stood up. She shielded her eyes from the sun's glare which was peeking through the trees but she still couldn't decipher the object.

 _Is it an animal? It's much too big to be a heron. . . . It's not the right color for a small deer or bear cub_

Watching her footsteps so she didn't slip or trip on the rocks, she made her way closer.

When she was still fifty feet away, she squinted her eyes trying to make her twenty-twenty vision see even further.

 _It looks like rubbish . . . . or cloth._

Curiosity – and boredom- got the best of her and she moved even closer to inspect the item.

 _It's probably just a tree limb with debris caught on it_.

She carefully made her way over a few rocks. No longer caring about her new shoes as the river water lapped over them. Elizabeth was almost directly on top of the object before she was assaulted by both the smell and the realization of what she was looking at.

She jerked her head away from it and gagged. But then looked back. Just for a second. Unable to stop herself. Steadying herself, she looked one more time to be sure. Now there was no longer any doubt in her mind what lay half-submerged in the river with her.

The dead body was at an abnormal angle. Which was why Elizabeth had had trouble identifying it as a body when she had walked towards it.

The man's neck was bent oddly as if he had fallen into the river and his head had gone under but his upper torso, supported by rocks, had remained partially above the majority of the water. His buttock and one leg, clad in rough jeans, were also somewhat above water. A clump of leaves washing down the river had become stuck in the awkward position of his bent knee.

Elizabeth held her hand over her mouth in an attempt to keep from vomiting and swallowed back what managed to come up.

She was grateful that the man's brown hair swirled in the water obscuring his facial features. She didn't want to see what ghastly look his face beheld.

She didn't want to think about how he died.

Of course, the bullet hole in his back was a dead-give away.

 **Up Next: Chapter 3**


	3. Chapter 3- The Body

**CHAPTER 3- THE BODY**

Elizabeth stood a dozen feet back on the shore where Jack had ordered her to go while he inspected the body.

"How long has it been there? Can you tell?" she called out while she jostled Thatch on her hip and thought about the body with the bullet wound between the shoulder blades.

"Just keep back."

"I am. But answer me."

Jack paused for a moment before answering. "It's got to be at least 90 degrees today. All week in fact."

"Why does that matter?"

"If it had been here for a few days, it should be smelling really bad by now in this heat. But I didn't smell anything until I got within two feet," he said with a professional critique of the situation. "The body's in cold water. Although water can speed up decomposition, the cold temperature could also slow it down more than if it was laying on the ground in the hot weather."

He realized that he wasn't being as precise as he would like but this wasn't exactly the ideal scene for investigating. None of the practical exercises he had completed at the Mountie Academy involved investigating a murder with your wife and young son in a river after a train left you all to fend for yourselves when you're supposed to be on a relaxing family vacation. And if they did, he must have missed class that day.

"Do you think he was one of the passengers on the train? I don't recognize him but there were so many people onboard."

"Rigor mortis has already set in. It's got to be from before the train stopped here."

Elizabeth continued to stare at the body as Jack searched the pockets for anything to help identify the middle-aged man. When he turned the man over more, Elizabeth looked at the white swollen cheeks and the unshaven face, but it was the eyes which had remained open - as if the man were still alive - that unsettled her the most.

"Do you think he was killed here or somewhere else and just dumped here?" she asked.

"I'm guessing here. There's no blood stains on his clothes. The water would wash away a lot, but if he were killed somewhere else, in this heat, the blood would have dried and left some mark. My guess is that he was shot here and fell into the water. Waves sloshing over him washed away the blood."

Jack stood back and gave Elizabeth, who had moved closer and was now standing beside him, an exasperated look.

"What happened to keeping back?"

"Hush. You got close."

"I'm a Mountie."

"And I'm your wife."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"We're partners."

"Marriage partners. Not law enforcement partners."

"Partners are partners."

"I don't want Thatch seeing this", Jack said as he looked at the small boy in Elizabeth's arms.

"He's fine. He doesn't understand what's happening. He's too young. Besides, he's probably going to end up a Mountie like you anyway," she added off-handedly.

Jack moved the dead body slightly and checked the man's right front pants' pocket. It was empty. Just like the others. "Nothing."

"Why do you think he was killed?"

"You have got to be kidding me." Jack knitted his brows and gave her a smirk.

"What?"

"How in the world should I know?"

"You're a Mountie."

Elizabeth simple declaration caused Jack to shake his head slightly in disbelief at the idea that he could possibly have figured out a motive for the crime after two minutes of examining the body.

Elizabeth gave a half shrug and continued her questions.. "Do you think it's been there since yesterday? Last night?"

"I don't think so. No animals have gotten to it yet. Also, he was shot in the back, probably while running away. If he was running in the dark, he would have been a harder target to hit so I don't think it was last night. I'm thinking the death occurred sometime this morning."

"I'd say he was killed at 8:12 this morning", Elizabeth said confidently as she first leaned forward and then backed away from the body.

Jack gave her a curious stare.

"Look", she said as she motioned to the man's right wrist. "His watch-face is broken and stopped at 8:12. When he fell, it hit the rocks and broke. Giving us the exact time of death. And I agree with what you said. It was more likely 8:12 this morning rather than 8:12 last night."

"I'll be damned", Jack said as he picked up the man's arm, studied the watch, and then let go of the limb, letting it fall back into the water. "I can't believe I missed that."

* * *

Once back at the only structure within miles, Elizabeth missed having a solid wooden door with a lock and key.

"What if the murderer is still around?" she asked for the tenth time as she stared at the inside of the cabin's broken door.

"I told you; he's probably long gone. I'm guessing he shot the guy and then headed out of here before the train got stuck on the tracks. No one reported hearing any gunshots and like I said before, rigor mortis had already set in. There's nothing to be done about it. I'll notify the Force when we're rescued. Get some sleep. It's late. I'll stand guard anyway. I've got a weapon and we've got four walls around us. Well, three and a half. But still. We're not out in the open."

"I can't sleep. We're stranded with a dead body for the next two days, I'm hungry, and your son is wide awake."

Jack looked at his son in the dim light of the fire. The boy was sitting up banging a metal spoon on the wall.

"Where the heck did he get that?"

"He found it somewhere. How should I know. He's like a divining rod. But instead of water, he finds lost objects."

"Did you at least clean it before you let him keep it?"

"I ran water from the bottle over it. But, Jack, look around. We're in the middle of the woods in a dirty run-down shack with a killer on the loose. A dirty spoon is the least of our worries."

"I told you, the killer is long gone. It could be worse. We've got a roof over our heads and we're safe together. I'll get us some food in the morning."

* * *

Morning arrived with the sounds of chirping bugs and singing birds.

Elizabeth had slept fitfully all night. She wasn't worried that the murderer was still around, but she still had to deal with nature. Heat. Storms. Bugs. Snakes. Wild animals. It was all a bit much to take on an empty stomach.

"You stay here with Thatch. I'm going hunting", Jack whispered.

"You are not leaving us here alone! We are coming with you!"

"Elizabeth, you'll be fine. I'll stay close by."

"You bet you will. Because we'll be with you. You're our defense against snakes and anything else out there in the wild."

* * *

While Jack cleaned the rabbit which he had shot fairly easily, Elizabeth and Thatch picked berries.

Elizabeth gave a little shudder when she saw Jack pull the animal's fur over its head. Leaving the rabbit a shiny moist red mass.

"It's actually one of the easiest animals to skin without a knife", Jack said when he noticed Elizabeth's reaction.

"I'm just glad you know what you're doing. And you're the one doing it."

She dropped another berry into the diaper in her hand. "Do you remember once you said that I looked like I could live in nature?"

Jack grinned at the memory. "I promised you a real house." He chuckled some more as he pulled the last bit of fur off the animal. "I never intended it to be like this. Foraging for berries. In the middle of nowhere."

"It's not so bad", she replied with a smile.

Jack lowered the knife and laughed. "It's horrible. But I love you for saying it's not so bad. This is the worst start to a vacation ever."

"I love you too. And by tomorrow, we'll be back on a train and on our way to Hamilton." Elizabeth walked over and popped a berry in Jack's mouth. Followed by a kiss on the lips.

"Thatch, you're making a mess of yourself", she giggled as she looked down at her young son who was smooshing berries into his mouth and then crawling under the bush to get more.

"That's it for this bush, little one. Time to go inside. Daddy's ready to cook breakfast", she said as she reached down and pulled Thatch out from under the bushes.

When she saw what he had clenched in his fist, she shook her head in bewilderment.

"Where the heck did that come from?" Jack asked in puzzlement when he saw the potato in his son's hand.

"I have no idea. Your son. He found it under the berry bushes."

"He found a potato under the berry bushes?"

"Yep. So far, he's found a snake, a piece of copper, a bottle, a spoon, and a potato. If he could find us a train, I'd be thrilled."

* * *

Jack looked at his son as the boy napped in Elizabeth's lap. His little belly full of breast-milk, berries, baked potato, and small bits of rabbit. Although he called the boy "Thatch", Elizabeth had nicknamed him "Little Jack" and on more than one occasion, she said that he was going to be the spitting image of Jack.

The boy had his father's coloring, but Jack thought he was more like Elizabeth. Especially what she had been like when he had first met. Curious. Adventuresome. Diving in head first to the unknown. Naïve. Adorably trusting.

Jack chuckled quietly and hoped that for his son's sake, the toddler had more than just his father's coloring in his genes.

His thoughts turned to the items that his son had found. The snake, although a frightening incident, was irrelevant. The battered spoon with its scrolled pattern on the handle, although once attractive, was also probably irrelevant. But the copper tubing, the bottle, and the potato were all pieces of a puzzle. And Jack now had an idea why the dead man had been in the woods.

"What are you thinking?" Elizabeth asked as she noticed him pull the copper tubing from his pocket and stare at it.

"Moonshine."

"Moonshine?"

"At first, I didn't think that the copper tubing had any significance. That maybe it was just dropped here by a traveler. And so was the glass bottle. Another traveler. Another piece of trash. But that potato's different. If it was someone's meal, it would have been eaten. And certainly noticed if it were dropped. It's more likely it was one of a large sack of potatoes that rolled away and was lost under the bush."

"So?"

"So, why would someone have a large sack of potatoes in the middle of the woods?"

When Elizabeth just stared at Jack with a confused look, he continued with another question. "Did you notice a smell to this cabin?"

"It's odd. Musty like the woods but I swear it smells like a granary or . . a brewery!" Elizabeth exclaimed with realization when she finally could put a finger on the scent. "Moonshine."

"Exactly. This is a piece from the copper tubing from the still. The bottle is one that was left over. Maybe they drank from it and discarded it, or else they didn't make enough to fill one last bottle."

Jack ran the copper tube through his fingers again. "They boil everything, including the potato mash, let the vapor go through the copper tubing, and then condense it in cool water."

Elizabeth took the tubing from his hand and examined it. "You know a lot about moonshine", she said with raised eyebrow and a small smile.

Jack chuckled. "I grew up in Aberdeen. We had our share of men who liked to brew their own stuff. And the Academy schooled us on it."

"The Academy?"

"Bootlegging. It's illegal. A way to avoid paying taxes and getting inspected by the government. We've stumbled on part of a bootleg operation."

"But where's the still?"

"Somewhere around here. Or maybe the men disassembled it before the left. Maybe that's what they were fighting over."

"Too bad they didn't leave any for us," Elizabeth muttered.

Jack grinned. "You don't even like liquor."

Elizabeth looked around at their dim dirty barren surroundings. "Right about now I'd love some liquor."

* * *

An hour later, Elizabeth set her son on the rock next to Jack and went to relieve herself. What she really wanted was a good bath but the idea of bathing in the river with the dead body turned her stomach. Without tools to dig a hole, or a blanket to cover the man, they had left it were Elizabeth had first stumbled upon it.

When they need water to drink, or catch fish- as they were now doing-, the trio had made sure to go upstream from the man. Far enough away to not see him, and up river to avoid contamination.

Jack had taken a diaper pin from his son – who was running around bottomless most of the time – and formed a fishing hook. A cloth diaper, torn into thin strips which Elizabeth had tied into a long row, became the fishing line. Finally, the rabbit intestines were a convenient substitute for worm bait.

Elizabeth moved fifty feet from the river's edge in an effort to maintain some bit of decorum, and avoid snake nests and prickly bushes. She was no longer worried that the killer was in the area. If he had wanted to harm them, he could have done it by now. Finding the body had been an unfortunate incident but it didn't change the Thornton family's actions or the fact that they had to survive their time against nature until the train came for them.

 _Jack was right. This vacation is the opposite of what a vacation is supposed to be_ , she thought as she skirted away from some plants that looked decidedly like poison ivy. _Three leaves. Yes, three leaves is poison ivy. Or is it four? No, no, it's three._

She found a safe-looking area to squat and pulled down her undergarments.

 _A broken-down train._

 _Being stranded, possibly for days, in the middle of nowhere._

 _A snake almost attacking my son._

 _Finding a dead body._

 _And now, I'm squatting in the bushes without anything to clean myself._

 _Whose idea was it to take a vacation?!_

* * *

Elizabeth pulled up her knickers and then smoothed her skirt back down. She looked around at the wilderness surrounding her. _It certainly is more private than the outhouse I had in Coal Valley_

She was making her way back towards the river when the hem caught on a prickly bush. Tugging at the fabric, Elizabeth frowned as she worried about a tear in the cotton. Her mother, Grace Thatcher, had instilled in her the practice of always looking one's best, even when traveling.

Especially when traveling.

"You never know who you might run into", her mother had often remarked as she had instructed Elizabeth on the proper length of a skirt, the need to have a pair of lady's gloves with her at all times, and the socially accepted width of a hat brim.

 _If mother could see me traveling now_ , Elizabeth thought sarcastically.

She was just thinking about having to violently rip the fabric from the thorns when she heard the noise. Jerking up her head, she found herself staring at a stag. She counted the points on its antlers. Eight points. An adult male. A _very large_ adult male deer.

Logically, she knew that deer weren't carnivorous. But the way this one was looking at her, she questioned whether he was aware of that fact.

With a loud ripping sound, she tore her skirt from the bush and began quickly walking backwards. She wrinkled her nose in disgust when a rare breeze blew an offensive odor towards her. She didn't give the scent a second thought as she continued to back away from the stag which still had its large eyes fixed on her.

 _For goodness sakes, I can't decide if it wants to eat me or mate with me_! she thought with a shake of her head. _Is this even rutting season?!_

"Shoo." She made a motion with her hand but the troublesome animal continued to stare at her.

She was fifteen feet from the animal, when her feet tripped over something and she fell backwards.

 _Stupid log_ , she thought as she berated herself for falling and angrily started to get up. She put her hand down in something soft and squishy but didn't pay attention as to what it was. Actually, it was fine with her. As long as she wasn't landing on something prickly or jagged, she was fine. Instead, she looked toward the direction of the stag. She sighed with relief when she realized it had moved away.

 _Good riddance_ , she thought, but then wrinkled her nose in disgust and gagged at the now overwhelming stench which seemed to be coming from under her. It was then that she remembered that she had landed on something soft.

 _Oh, please don't be some odd smelly poisonous clump of mushrooms._

When she looked down at her hand and saw the soft object crushed beneath it, Elizabeth couldn't have stopped herself from screaming even if she wanted to.

Still screaming, she scrambled to get up but her leg became caught in a branch and she clumsily fell face down onto the object of her fear.

Her nose and mouth landed on its scraggly bearded jaw.

Her scream was silenced as her earlier breakfast of rabbit and berries came up and landed on the man's swollen face. Some of it seeping into the deep hole above his left eye.

The hole left by the bullet that abruptly ended his life.

 **Up next: Chapter 4**


	4. Chapter 4 Carrion and a Comb

CHAPTER 4 - CARRION AND COMB

Elizabeth's scream echoed through the woods causing animals to perk up their ears in bewilderment.

Jack hesitated for a split second over what to do with Thatch. Hastily deciding it was safer to take him along to the unknown rather than leave him alone and near the river, he threw down the freshly caught fish in his hand, grabbed the boy, and tucked him under one arm. Keeping his hand on his weapon which remained holstered on his hip, Jack ran from water's edge.

"Elizabeth!"

Jack thrashed through the forest. Not caring that he was causing chipmunks and squirrels to scamper away in fright.

He rounded a bush and almost bumped into Elizabeth who was running towards him.

"Dead body", she gasped as she came to an abrupt stop. "Dead body."

Jack stopped short and looked at her as she lifted her arm and pointed towards the direction from where she had come.

"Dead body?"

Elizabeth nodded.

Jack raised his eyebrows in confusion and disbelief. " _Another_ dead body?"

* * *

"Stay here", Jack ordered as he handed their son to Elizabeth.

"I have to show you where it is", Elizabeth argued after she had taken a deep breath and calmed herself.

Jack looked at her in frustration. "Just point me in the direction and STAY HERE."

"Follow me", Elizabeth ordered as she grabbed his arm and started walking. Now that she had Jack with her, she had gotten over her initial shock.

 _And, I don't want Thatch and me to be left alone without our Mountie to protect us_ , she admitted to herself as she continued walking in the direction of the dead man.

* * *

"He's been dead at least a day. He's already swollen and discolored", Jack explained over his shoulder to Elizabeth. Jack was crouched down next to the dead man. He held one of his own hands over his nose in an effort to mask the decomposing scent.

"Do you think he was killed at the same time as the man in the river we found yesterday?"

"I'm just guessing, but I'd say yeah. Within a day of each other. Maybe hours."

"I think it was dragged here but it's kind of hard to tell", Jack added. He frowned and scanned the ground surrounding the body.

"I disturbed your crime scene, didn't I?", Elizabeth admitted with a frown of her own.

"Well, I'm not going to say your vomit was a help."

* * *

There was nothing to do with second dead body.

Jack's fingers had involuntarily moved as he instinctively wanted to make notes, take photographs, interview witnesses, and send telegrams. He had to keep reminding himself that he didn't have paper, a pen, a camera, or a telegraph system. And the only witness was his wife, who at this moment was wiping mushed cooked salmon from their son's mouth. And asking more questions than he could answer.

"What are we going to do?" Elizabeth, now back at the shack, asked as she took a bite of fish and then handed another small piece to Thatch, who was thoroughly enjoying the meal. In fact, he was thoroughly enjoying his first ever vacation. A train ride, new sights to see, a cool dirt floor to crawl on, fun places to explore. It had been a most enjoyable past two days.

Jack gave her a confused look. "Do?"

"About our situation."

"There's nothing to do. We have to wait. We are hundreds of miles from the nearest town that I know of."

"We can't just stay here!" she argued. "With two dead bodies?"

"Elizabeth, we will be reported as missing. You have to have faith. The train company - or your parents - will report us as missing. They will figure out where we were left. As long as there's no danger in staying here, the best thing to do is always to remain at the last place you were known to be."

"No danger in staying here?!", Elizabeth asked with the voice of disbelief.

"I've got everything under control."

"Under control? Your son found evidence of a bootleg operation and I keep finding dead bodies!" Elizabeth's voice had become shrill, causing Thatch to stop chewing and tilt his head sideways, giving her a curious look.

Much like his father, he decided there was nothing to get excited about at this point. He had food, a dry bottom, and his two favorite people were with him. He returned to chewing the salmon and then held out his arm to his mother who handed him another piece.

"You trust me, don't you?" Jack asked with a serious look.

"You know I do. I just -"

Jack picked up her hand and brought it to him. Ignoring the residue of fish clinging to her skin. He held her palm in his, against his chest in a way that somehow managed to made Elizabeth feel secure. "It's going to be okay. Don't worry. Try to forget about the bodies and let's just concentrate on tomorrow when the next train should be coming through."

* * *

"I brought you dessert," Elizabeth said as she approached Jack hours later. He was sitting outside on a fallen tree and keeping an eye on a small fire he had lit as night settled in. Just past dusk he had checked the two traps he had set after lunch, but neither one had produced anything. There was only so much he could do with sticks, rocks, and cloth.

"We didn't have dinner", he replied.

Elizabeth sat down on the log and popped a Life Saver mint into Jack's mouth when he opened it for her.

"I know, but we can still have dessert. This is the best I can do. Peppermint."

"Are you okay with my decision not to go hunting?"

"Of course. I agree. We need to save the bullets in case there's any more danger. We're not going to starve between our fish lunch and our rescue tomorrow."

"Where's Thatch?"

"He fell asleep on the floor. His new-found spoon clutched in his hand."

"We should turn in ourselves."

"It's nice out here." Elizabeth leaned against Jack's shoulder. He bent his neck slightly and kissed the top of her head.

They sat side-by-side watching the flames flicker in the otherwise dark night. Listening to chirping sounds and the occasional rustling as small rodents moved among fallen leaves and underbrush.

Jack wrapped one arm around Elizabeth as she snuggled even closer.

"I'm glad I asked you to marry me", he said tenderly in her ear.

"Me too", she replied in a sweet whisper.

They sat quietly for another thirty seconds, enjoying the peacefulness, until Jack spoke again.

"I'm glad you said yes", he declared when he suddenly remembered that she could have refused him, as her family had hoped.

"Me too," she replied again with a grin.

* * *

Thursday's morning sun filtered through the trees but then had to filter through the cracks in the shack walls, the small window opening, and the broken door, to provide any illumination in the small building.

Jack sat up from where he was lying on the floor, silently groaned when he felt an ache in his back due to sleeping on a wooden plank for two nights, and listened to his wife's voice. She was positioned in the doorway with her back to him, but he could hear her words as she spoke to their son.

 _"_ Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war; That this foul deed shall smell above the earth; With carrion, men groaning for burial," she quoted from memory as she ran her fingers along her son's back and then continued with her own words.

"Carrion. That's a dead rotting body. It's yucky but if we think of it in poetry or classic literature it's not so bad. Everything's better in a poem. When you get older, I'll read Shakespeare to you."

"You're teaching our boy about Shakespeare?" Jack called out.

"Good morning." Elizabeth looked over her shoulder and smiled at Jack. "That's from 'Julius Caesar'. Every situation can be used as a teaching point. Even this one."

"Then why don't you teach him something useful." Jack suggested with his own grin as he walked over to them. He picked up Thatch from Elizabeth's lap.

"My turn. Son, a carrion is a dead body that is rotting. When you're out and about and you see vultures, or hyenas, or possum, those are scavengers. They eat carrion. So, if you see them, chances are that there's decaying flesh around."

"Oh, that's disgusting", Elizabeth said with a scrunch of her face. "Stop. No more. Let's talk about something different."

Jack pushed his son's hair from the boy's forehead and looked at the boy's happy but filthy face.

"We've got a few hours until we know a train is scheduled to come through. What do you say we go down to the river? I'll try to get some more fish and we can wash up. Look somewhat dignified for our rescue."

"I suppose I look a bit of a mess."

* * *

Elizabeth's camisole provided enough protection from the sun as she lay her freshly washed blouse on a large rock on the edge of the river. Jack's shirt and all of their son's clothes were already starting to dry. She looked down the river and watched as a heron picked up a small fish in its mouth and took flight. The trees were far enough from the banks of the river to allow the sunshine to stream onto the black rocks, but close enough for birds to nest and still enjoy an abundance of food just seconds away.

Now that the clothes were clean - or at least cleaner than earlier – Elizabeth took a comb from her pocket. She gently ran it through her son's short hair. He sat still for her, but the moment she had finished and given him a kiss, he turned and crawled a short distance away. Piling small pebbles and shells into heaps. His hands getting dirty.

Elizabeth sighed, knowing that soon those dirty hands would be rubbed on his face and in his hair. As long as he kept things out of his mouth, she would be content.

* * *

The comb caught in her own tangles. She had wet her hair to rid it of its smoky scent, but now it was a damp interwoven mass.

"Let me", Jack said as he reached out his hand and sat down next to her.

"Thanks."

"I've always loved your hair. I remember the first time I ever had dinner with you. When you were living with Abigail in her row-house. It was a mass of curls. Falling down past your shoulders in little bounces", Jack remarked as he gently worked the wide-tooth comb through her hair. He started at the bottom. Separating the hair and taking hold of a small amount at a time. When a part was free of tangles, he moved the comb higher and repeated the same movements.

"You liked my hair?" she responded in mild surprise as she enjoyed his attention. "It was probably all messy. I was a disaster that first week."

Jack remembered every detail of her at that meal. Not just because he was a Mountie trained to be observant. It was because she got to him that evening. She had been getting to him, in one way or another, ever since.

He remembered her in her pale beige blouse with thin stripes and a V neckline. Sporting a black eye. Him in his uniform sitting catty-corner to her at the small table.

Jack smiled. "I had some very indecent thoughts about you. About kissing you with my hands in your hair. And you in my –"

"In your what? Your arms?" Elizabeth prompted him when he paused.

"Yep. That's it. In my arms", he agreed.

 _Arms. Bed. Close enough,_ he thought with a quiet chuckle.

* * *

The fish sizzled as Jack held the long stick which pierced it over the flames. He had quickly come to the realization that he was a better fisherman than a trapper.

"This should be our last meal out here. Late breakfast-lunch." Jack looked at his watch.

"It's called brunch", Elizabeth said with a smile.

"It's actually too late for brunch. Let's just call it lunch. The train should be coming by in less than two hours. We'll eat and then wait by the tracks. This evening, I am treating you to the best meal on the menu in the train's dining car."

"Damn it. I left my shoes at the river bank", Elizabeth grumbled as she looked around and didn't see her footwear.

"You watch the food. I'll go."

"No, it's okay. I'll get them," Elizabeth insisted. "Keep an eye on Thatch."

"No more finding dead bodies!", Jack called out humorously as Elizabeth turned and started in the direction of the river.

"Ha ha. Not funny", she retorted.

Elizabeth walked a few paces, stopped, and walked back to Jack. "I'll take the pistol with me," she stated as she held out her hand.

"The pistol?"

"For protection."

"From dead bodies?" he asked in amusement.

"From anything."

"You hate guns and you are a terrible shot."

"Just give me the pistol!"

Jack shook his head. "I'll go. You stay here."

When he made a movement to stand up, Elizabeth put out her hand to stop him. "I can go it myself. I'm a grown woman. Living in the wilderness. I have handled worse than this. I'll be back in five minutes."

* * *

Five minutes later, Elizabeth had somehow managed to get herself turned around. If she hadn't been slightly fuming about Jack's assumption – however right it might be- that she was a terrible shot, she would have paid attention to her surroundings. Instead, as her mind thought about her past experiences around weapons, her feet continued forward rather than turn at the path worn down by their frequent steps to and from the river.

Elizabeth paused when she realized she had missed the turn. She looked around and saw bushes. And trees. And bushes. And trees.

 _I can't be too far off course. . . . But I can't even see the smoke from our fire._

 _Why does this area look familiar?_

 _We must have walked through it._

She moved another ten feet towards the north when she smelled it. Not the smell of cooking salmon. The smell of rotting flesh. Human flesh.

 _No! No! This is where the body is!_

Elizabeth quickly swiveled around to go in the opposite direction. She only had gone three feet when she saw it. Not the dead body. Something alive.

And more dangerous.

She stopped in her tracks at the sight of the dog-like animal. It was no more than 20 feet away.

From the size of it – smaller than a wolf but still about 45 pounds - Elizabeth guessed it was fully grown. Her years away from Hamilton had taught her quite a bit, she realized.

She had heard it – or its relatives – howling last night.

If she'd hadn't turned around the bush at that moment, she wouldn't have noticed it until she was too close.

The coyote stared at her. Wondering if she was after the same meal it was after.

It's pointed ears, majestic face, and fur – light grey with black and white iinterspered – made it a beautiful animal to look at. From a distance.

The two stared at each other for a moment before they were joined by another coyote. Clearly, the decomposing body which the animals had smelled was meant to feed them. They had no intention of sharing with an outsider.

Elizabeth, keeping her eyes on the canines, slowly backed up a few paces. When the animals moved towards her – stalking her - she realized that she was headed in the wrong direction.

She wanted away from the dead body. And away from the coyotes scavenging for it.

 _Now_ _what the heck do I do?_ , she thought in despair

* * *

The blast from the weapon caused her to flinch and let out a short scream. She kept her eyes on the animals but saw something else to her right.

The coyotes flinched too. But they didn't run away from the noise which was meant to scare them. They wanted their meal.

"Elizabeth, come towards me", Jack said as he now aimed his pistol at one of the animals. "Walk deliberately but not too suddenly."

When she hesitated, Jack instructed her again. "Come on. Just fifteen feet to your right."

When she got to him, Jack pushed her behind his back and instructed her to keep walking. She quickly picked up Thatch who was sitting on the ground behind Jack and hurried away.

Jack waited until Elizabeth was safely far enough away from the coyotes before following after her.

* * *

"Jack, I'm sorry. I got a bit lost. And then they were just _there_!"

"Carrion", he said simply as they entered the shack. "Coyotes are scavengers. Just like vultures, and hyenas, and possum. They eat decaying flesh."

Before she could respond, he took the toddler from Elizabeth's arms and put him down the ground. "I'm guessing your Shakespeare doesn't mention that in his writing."

Elizabeth frowned despite the twinkle in Jack's eyes and the smirk on his face. "Can we just hurry up and get out of here?" she asked with a sense of desperation in her voice.

"I agree. We have a train to catch. And a fancy home in Hamilton waiting for us."

* * *

They waited by the tracks for two hours. At first, standing next to them. Then, sitting on the ground. Finally, lying down where they soon became too hot and exhausted from the sun to bother moving.

"They'll send a search party for us when the train stops. We might as well go back to the shack", Jack finally said wearily. The heat from Thatch's sleeping body against his chest had caused both their shirts to be drenched in sweat.

"How much longer do you think it will be? They're already over an hour late."

"Maybe another hour at the most. That should be all. But let's get out of the heat. The shack will be much cooler. Don't worry, they'll send people out to find us. We'll be on our way before you know. Train companies make money by running on schedule."

"I hope we get a private compartment again. They owe us that at least."

Jack smiled as he stood up. Holding his boy with one arm, he offered a hand to Elizabeth and helped pull her up. "We'll find out soon enough."

* * *

At the Splitting Rock train station hundreds of miles west of the shack, the passengers yelled loudly and argued with the stationmaster, who had just encouraged them to all go to the nearest restaurant to dine rather than continue to crowd the station platform or his small station room.

"What do you mean another _SIX_ hours?!" a business man shouted angrily. "I have appointments to go to!"

"But we were supposed to leave two hours ago", a frazzled mother exclaimed as she held the sweaty hand of her whining seven-year old daughter.

"What about our luggage? Are we just supposed to haul it to the restaurant with us? Because I'm not going to bloody do it!" a large man with three suitcases straining to bust open announced.

The stationmaster hated his job on days like this. When he had received the telegram that the train had been postponed due to another broken part, he had given a tired sigh. Knowing that the crowd on the platform would not take the news well, he waited ten minutes to walk out behind the ticket window cage to announce the delay. He had used those ten minutes to drink a shot of whiskey, smoke a cigarette, and be thankful he wasn't a passenger.

As some of the passengers began to clear the platform, the stationmaster went back inside and picked up the newspaper. He turned to the final pages and began scanning the job opportunities.

Perhaps it was time to find another profession. Between missing scheduled arrivals and departures, mismanagement, and poor maintenance of parts, he doubted the railroad company would be in business much longer.


	5. Chapter 5 Standing Guard

**CHAPTER 5 - STANDING GUARD**

Jack's rudimentary trap had actually worked, and at dusk it had provided another edible dinner. Edible. Not tasty. But edible. There was only some much one could do with a rabbit with no spices or sauces.

The family had given up on a rescue that day and were sitting dejected by the fire. Elizabeth's and Jack's shoulders were slumped as if in defeat. The train had never come.

"Maybe tomorrow", Elizabeth said in a poor attempt to sound hopeful.

"Yeah, of course. Tomorrow. It must be scheduled to come through tomorrow", Jack replied. He didn't even try to sound upbeat. In frustration, he threw a thin rabbit bone into the fire.

Elizabeth gave a dismal sigh and her shoulders slumped even further. They had already spent three days and two nights in the decrepit shack with nothing to comfort themselves but each other. She was tired of the humidity, the hunger that was never fully sated, the dirt, the wilderness. She wanted home. A bed. Plates and silverware. Fresh clothes. She wanted to sit for more than two minutes without having to smack a bug away from her. She was tired of nature.

Even Jack seemed more out of sorts than expected.

It was Thatch who first noticed the sound.

Jack had lazily passed the bottle of river water to Elizabeth who had taken an unladylike gulp from it. She was about to put it to their son's lips and help him drink when he spoke.

"Choo choo", the little boy said as he perked up his head and looked at his parents.

Elizabeth paused for a split second. "No! No, no, no!" she yelled as she scrambled to her feet. She had now heard it too. Off in the distance. The sound of a train rushing down the nearby tracks.

"The engineer will never see our marker in the dark!" she exclaimed.

By the time she picked up Thatch, Jack was already out of sight and sprinting through the woods.

Elizabeth hurriedly started towards the tracks. Using the moonlight to guide her. But she had only gone about twenty feet when she realized that although she had heard the trains engine, she hadn't heard something else. She hadn't heard a whistle of acknowledgement. The whistle to let the passengers know to prepare for a stop.

And she hadn't heard something even more important.

The hiss and screech of brakes.

She hadn't heard the train stop.

* * *

When Jack marched back to the campsite, he was furious.

"What the hell is the matter with them?! They come through now?! Now?! Eight hours overdue?! In the dark?!"

Jack angrily kicked at the ground, spewing bits of dirt into the fire.

His harsh attitude took Thatch by surprise and he looked to his mother for reassurance. He buried his tiny face into her breasts while Jack continued to angrily scream into the dark night.

"They left us out here in the middle of nowhere! With nothing! Stupid-ass train company! They left a pregnant woman and a small toddler in the middle of the woods! And then they come in the dark?! Now they won't be through for another two or three days! Maybe longer!"

"Jack –" Elizabeth began but then stopped when the light from the fire illuminated his face. His jaw was clenched. His eyes were narrowed in fury.

"Days!" he screamed again.

Without a word, she carried Thatch into the shack. Leaving Jack alone outside to vent his anger at the world.

* * *

Friday morning came just like the other mornings had come. The birds singing. The squirrels rustling in the leaves. The cooler air which swiftly became humid.

"Did we have to pick the hottest week in twenty years to get stuck in the woods?" Elizabeth grumbled as she found Jack near the river. She bent down and situated herself on the rock next to him.

It had been another uncomfortable night. She would have loved to have laid her head on Jack's stomach last night. Using it as pillow. But it had been too hot and she didn't want to burden him.

Besides, when he had finally come inside yesterday evening, he had spent most of the night leaning against the window opening and looking out into the blackness. She had encouraged him to lay down and get some sleep, but he had explained that he was too wound up by the train's delay to rest. He had promised he'd lay down soon.

Elizabeth had lain on the unforgiving floor with Thatch on her chest. His adorable small body feeling like a hundred-pound weight of hotness on her. Hours into the night, she gave up being the perfect mother and gently moved him to the floor next to her. When she had finally fallen into a sound sleep, Jack had been still standing by the window.

"You should put your feet in the water", Jack now suggested in a flat voice. He moved over a few inches, to give her closer access to the water's edge, but then became silent again.

"It's pretty here."

"Hmmm", Jack murmured.

"Catch anything?"

"Not yet."

"I'll keep my feet still so the fish don't get scared, but I can't guarantee this one will behave", Elizabeth said. She held onto Thatch with one outstretched arm as he dangled his toes in the water.

Her attempt at making pleasant conversation didn't work as Jack became silent again.

When something began tugging on the line, Elizabeth was sure that Jack would smile, but his demeanor remained subdued.

"What do you think we should do?" Elizabeth finally asked. They had been sitting next to each for five minutes with no more words between them. The fish's mouth, while Jack removed the diaper pin from it, had moved more than Jack's this morning. He laid the flopping fish on a rock but made no move to stand up and take it back to the shack.

"I'm sorry. About last night. I shouldn't have gotten so angry", Jack replied. He stared at the fishing line which he had re-baited and put back into the water.

"You're forgiven." Elizabeth said good-naturedly. She picked up a stick and gently tickled Thatch with it. Hoping that the sounds of his giggles would break the tension around Jack. She didn't know why her husband was so tense. Seemingly bothered by something other than their lack of decent shelter and a reliable source of food.

It was another minute before Jack spoke again.

"I worry. About you and Thatch. About protecting you and taking care of you. I can't let anything happen to you two," he explained.

"Jack, we're perfectly fine. Dirty. In need of a toothbrush and a good bath with soap, but perfectly fine."

"And I never want to see a snake or a coyote again," she added lightly when Jack didn't immediately respond.

"I found the still. It's still intact", he said simply as he avoided looking at her. A sense of guilt at having kept a secret creeping into his voice.

"You what?" Elizabeth asked. Hoping she had heard wrong.

"I found the still."

"When?"

"Yesterday."

"Yesterday?!"

"When I was looking for more wood and scouting the area. After the train hadn't shown up in the afternoon."

A stunned Elizabeth realized the significance of the bootlegger's apparatus remaining in the area. "Whoever killed the men will be back. That's why you didn't sleep at all last night. You were watching. Keeping guard over us again."

Jack didn't reply but Elizabeth knew she was right.

"Where is it?"

"About 75 feet from the shack. To the west. There's another little structure. it's only about four feet tall. Basically just a roof over the still and enough of some walls to keep out large animals.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to worry."

"We are a partnership. You need to tell me these things."

Jack watched Thatch reach down and touch his little toes which were in the water. "You know, he's almost walking."

"You cannot keep secrets from me", Elizabeth reprimanded Jack without letting him change topics.

Part of her was incredibly grateful that Jack would do anything to protect his family. The other part of her was angry that he would keep a secret from her. Especially when it involved their safety. Especially when she had proven time and time again over the years that she could take care of herself. Most of the time. _Well, at least some of the time,_ she thought to herself.

Jack nodded in resignation. "I know."

"So why did you?"

"I over-reacted. The killer shouldn't be back soon. It would take days to travel out of here and then days to come back."

"That would depend on how far he was going," Elizabeth countered.

"It's only been three days. We've got time until he comes back. I'm pretty sure about that."

"Then why didn't you sleep last night?" she challenged him curtly.

"I told you. I over-reacted. Don't be mad at me. Please don't be mad at me", he said sorrowfully. "I was just upset. First the train didn't show up and we waited by the tracks for hours. Then I found the still. Then the train came by at night and didn't stop. It was just a bit much. But we'll be okay until we're rescued. The killer may decide not to come back at all because of the bodies."

"Maybe", Elizabeth said hopefully.

"It makes sense."

"Since when has anything about this vacation made sense?", she asked in slight exasperation.

Jack turned to look at her. He saw by her expression that her anger had been short-lived and she had already forgiven him for keeping a secret. "I know that help will come. Eventually. It's just so damn frustrating waiting."

"Do you think we should start walking? Make our way out of here?"

"There are probably some homesteads somewhere around here, but I have no idea where. We could end up walking miles in the wrong direction. I didn't see anything when we climbed to the top of the hill. I looked again this morning."

"We could walk along the tracks. Look for signs of farms or ranches."

Jack shook his head. "Not with you and Thatch. If I were by myself it'd be different. It's too big a risk. It's safer here. We've got shelter. A river for water."

"I can do it. We can take turns carrying Thatch. I can do it. I'm strong", Elizabeth said eagerly.

"You're pregnant."

"Then we just wait," Elizabeth said. Realizing she would never be able to keep pace with Jack. "My folks have probably alerted every law enforcement office in Canada that we didn't arrive last night"

"I've been thinking about putting something on the tracks. To slow down any trains. Stop them. I just don't want them to derail."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Two dead bodies."

* * *

Elizabeth had convinced Jack not to put the dead bodies on the tracks. Not necessarily because she found it ghastly to imagine them possibly getting hit, but because she didn't want Jack going anywhere near them. He moved the first one they had found out of the water and marked the area with a cloth to alert others as to its location; he suspected that the nearest Mountie office would want to investigate once he had notified them. But the idea of him carrying the decomposing and partially eaten bodies to the tracks turned her stomach.

"This should do it", Jack said as he dragged another branch, which he had jumped on repeatedly until it had broken from the tree trunk, and added it to the pile he had already laid onto the tracks.

He had placed the limbs - with branches shooting out full of numerous leaves - onto the wooden slats between the steel rails. "The conductor should see it in time to slow down, and I've kept it off the rails so the train shouldn't derail if it hits it."

Elizabeth hurried over to Thatch who was crawling up and down the sloping land along the tracks, and picked him up. Taking a piece of coal from her son's now blackened hand, she tossed it back to the ground.

A sudden gust of wind whipped her hair around, obscuring her eyesight. When she moved the strands of curls behind her ears, she accidentally smudged coal dust on her pale colored forehead.

"Hey, save that coal. We can use it in the fire", Jack said as he walked over to her. He bent down and picked up the discarded rock. "We should have looked for some earlier. The coal cars on locomotives are always losing pieces of coal because it's piled so high. We'll mix it with the sticks of wood."

Jack picked up a few more pieces on the ground and put them into his pockets. "Good thinking, Thatch", he said with a grin as he looked at his son.

Elizabeth looked to the skies which were getting ominously dark. "A storm is coming. Let's hurry home."

"Home?" Jack asked humorously.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "The shack. Whatever. Let's just get back before the storm gets here."

"It's coming in pretty quickly", Jack said worriedly as he noticed that wind picking up and saw a streak of lightning in the distance.

 **Up next: Chapter 6**


	6. Chapter 6 - H2O

**Dear Readers, to those of you who encouraged me to hurry up with the next chapter, here it is!** 😊

 **Chapter 6 – H2O**

The rain came in droves. As if an ocean had been dammed up and finally released.

Buckets of water came down. Finding their way through the canopy of trees. Pounding onto the roof of the shack where the small Thornton family sat huddled on the floor. The building was dimly lit by the small flames that sputtered to remain alive as water ran down the chimney and onto the sticks and coal that Jack had set into the stone fireplace.

The forest was silent except for the storm. There was no chirping of cicada. No howling of coyotes. No birds calling out to one another. Every living creature was curled up in its nest or den or burrow trying to avoid being assaulted by the wind and rain.

Even the spiders usually crawling on the cobwebs in the corners of the building seemed to find the violent storm more than they could handle.

With the rain came the thunder and lightning. Loud claps that made Thatch's eyes open wide in panic. He crawled into Elizabeth's lap, refusing to leave it except to crawl into Jack's lap. Going back and forth between his two parents every so often as if one's body would be better than the other's at somehow stopping the loud noise.

"It's pretty bad out there", Elizabeth remarked worriedly after a huge boom of thunder caused her body to flinch.

"It's fine. We'll be okay." Jack scooted over closer to Elizabeth and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "It's just noise."

The noise got louder and louder until it seemed that Mother Nature was determined to take out all her frustrations on the little shack in the forest.

* * *

 _Whoosh_

The angry wind blew down the chimney and put an end to the fire's valiant attempt to remain lit.

"We're okay", Jack said soothingly to the young boy in his wife's arms as the family was plunged into total darkness. "It's just dark but we're okay."

"Remember the storm we spent in the coal mine?" he asked as the image came to mind.

"Of course, I do." Elizabeth smiled faintly in the blackness. "The first time you were finally brave enough to tell me that you loved me."

"Hey, you hadn't told me yet either", he retorted with a grin.

"If you had waited much longer, I probably would have. And then reprimanded you for taking so long", she chuckled.

"I was waiting to decide if I could stomach your cooking for the next sixty years."

"Very funny", she remarked with a jab to his arm.

The couple fell back into silence as the storm raged on. Neither one mentioning their bellies which had been empty since lunch.

* * *

"I'm scared the lightning will strike a tree. What if one falls on us? The roof will collapse", Elizabeth said when another clap of thunder caused Thatch to tremble again.

"There's no other choice. We're in the middle of the woods."

"We could go to the train tracks. It's more open there and we won't have to worry about a tree falling on us."

Jack scoffed and shook his head. "I am not about to take my family to metal train tracks in the middle of a lightning storm."

Before Elizabeth could think of a retort, there was a tremendous boom of thunder followed by a loud splintering sound and then a crash of something just outside the door which caused the earth to shudder.

All three of their bodies flinched and felt a tingle. Thatch hurriedly extricated himself from Elizabeth's lap and threw himself the two-inch distance into Jack's arms. His tiny body shaking as he buried his face into his father's chest.

"That was a tree! It hit a tree!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Right outside!"

"It was pretty close", Jack noted with worry now evident in his voice as he wrapped his arms around his son.

Another loud boom silenced the words on the tip of Elizabeth's tongue. She shoved herself closer to Jack, who now found himself with both his wife and his son trying to fit onto his lap while the storm pummeled the shack.

He gave them each a comforting kiss, and then spent the next thirty minutes giving them gentle squeezes of reassurance whenever a crack of lightning shattered the skies and was almost immediately followed by a loud boom which shook the building from the ground.

The storm had started like the sounds of drums announcing troops coming to do battle. Now it was like the troops themselves were assaulting the forest. Battling against the small structure in the woods.

Despite the shack having four walls and a roof, the rain shrewdly found a way inside. The wind blew sheets of water sideways and diagonally – anyway it could - through the enormous gap in the broken door.

* * *

It rained and rained until Elizabeth thought the sky couldn't possibly have any moisture left in it. She finally nodded off to sleep as the thunder rolled away into the distance and only the sound of rain hitting the roof had remained.

Jack was the last to fall asleep. Preferring to wait until his wife and son were no longer in need of his strong protective arms before he closed his eyes and allowed himself to finally succumb to his weariness.

* * *

The tugging at her blouse woke up Elizabeth. Trying not to disturb Jack, she carried the awake and hungry Thatch outside.

Despite the morning hour, the sky was still grey and dim due to the clouds that were trying their best to blot out any ray of sunlight.

Although the rain had stopped hours earlier, drops of water fell on Elizabeth when a breeze blew through the leaves. When it spattered on Thatch's arm, he curiously looked upwards at the trees with their long branches full of wet leaves ready to sprinkle on him whenever the wind chose.

Ten feet from the side of the shack lay the scarred tree. The lightning had traveled along the inner bark, causing the outer bark to inflate and explode away in strips of blackened timber. A limb - easily fourteen inches in diameter - lay on the ground after having fallen through leafy smaller branches and bringing them crashing down with it.

Elizabeth lifted her skirt with one hand and crossed over the fallen debris, stepping between the broken branches, to get to the berry bushes.

The dark-colored plump berries were wet and cool in her mouth.

She put a berry into Thatch's open mouth. And then another as the boy enthusiastically ate.

 _Poor Jack. He's worn out from doing so much to take care of the three of us. He could sleep for hours. I should find us a nice breakfast._

 _Yes, that's it. I'll find us breakfast,_ she thought with determination.

 _Hmm. Breakfast.. . . Something other than just berries and breast milk for Thatch._

Elizabeth looked around the wet forest as if half expecting to find a small grocery store or farmer's market. She could check the trap but she rightly suspected that the powerful storm had knocked down the simple contraption before any small animal had ventured into it.

 _The upside is all the rain last night made mushrooms pop up everywhere! . . . . . . The downside is that I can't distinguish poisonous mushrooms from edible ones_ , she thought with a frown.

She bent to the ground, fingered the fungus with its red cap and stark white skirting, and then wiped her hand on her clothing.

 _Probably best not to poison my family to death._

* * *

Jack turned onto his side as Elizabeth, careful not to wake him, tiptoed into the shack and retrieved the glass bottle to fill with river water. He grimaced slightly in his sleep as his body missed the soft mattress in their bedroom back home. His eyes remained closed as his dream of riding his horse through town turned to a dream of riding the animal through a crowded train car and knocking over passengers.

 _I'll let him keep sleeping_ , she thought sympathetically.

She put her finger to lips to gently silence Thatch who was busy babbling "Da Da,Da Da" at the man lying on the floor in dirty wrinkled clothing. _He must be exhausted if he can sleep through this little one._

Jack was still dreaming when Elizabeth, carrying Thatch on her hip, made her way to the river to check the fishing line which he had set yesterday.

* * *

Elizabeth hardly recognized the river. The storm which had drenched the area had changed the pleasant river from the past few days, which then had been a scenic flow of water, into a swollen dark torrent.

The rocks on which they had sat yesterday morning were now fully submerged, and the banks where Thatch had played in the dirt were now under two feet of fast-moving brown water.

Elizabeth's eyes scanned the area until she spied the fishing line which she had made of thinly torn strips of Thatch's diaper. When Jack had set the line with rabbit guts on the diaper pin, he had tied it to a low tree branch dangling over the water. Yesterday, the tree's trunk had been on the shore, but now, after the hours of rain which had filled the river, the tree trunk was surrounded by water and the branch was even farther from Elizabeth's reach.

 _Darn it! Can't anything be easy out here?_

With a sigh of frustration, she debated whether she should take off her shoes and socks or just allow them to get soaking wet. Even though she had just recently purchased the stylish shoes, they were already scuffed and dirty and the right one had a berry stain on the toe area. She realized she might as well keep them on.

Using a broken tree branch as a walking stick, Elizabeth moved carefully into the river. Slowly. Taking her time. Aware of the child in her arm and the other one growing inside.

She lifted up the hem of her skirt and tucked it into the waistband so that it wouldn't become drenched. The water lapped over her shoes and reached to her knees, soaking her socks. She could take off the socks when she got back to the shack but she hadn't wanted to wander around in a wet skirt or without wearing one at all. She didn't care how strange she might look with her hair askew and her skirt tucked up for anyone to see her knickers. Not that anyone was around to likely come upon the scene. She and Thatch were the only awake humans for miles.

When she pulled the line made of strips of the torn diaper from the water and saw the fish jerking back and forth from the end of it, her tense shoulders relaxed in delight and her face broke out in a smile.

"We caught a fish! Thatch, we caught a fish!"

Thatch reached out his hand and giggled when the fish's tail smacked it.

"Won't daddy be happy? We're going to bring him breakfast", Elizabeth said excitedly. But then her mouth turned into a frown.

It only took a second for Elizabeth to realize that getting the slippery fish into her skirt pocket wasn't going to be easy. In fact, she had been so intent on getting breakfast for Jack that she hadn't worked out the logistics before she had ambled into the river.

* * *

Elizabeth pressed Thatch against her body with her forearm; holding him securely to herself. More awkwardly, she then held the walking stick against her body with her elbow. That meant she could use her left hand to hold the fish and her right hand to remove the hook from its mouth.

As she stood there with the water rushing against her legs, she was struck with the reality of the situation; this was not going to be as simple as she hoped.

The fish had no intention of going easily and it flapped back and forth, straining to get away from the bent diaper pin in its mouth.

"Hold still", Elizabeth ordered sharply under her breath as she tried to grasp the thin piece of metal.

The fish ignored her command and slipped from her grasp. Falling back into the water and out of sight.

"Damn it!" she exclaimed and then immediately turned to Thatch and apologized for her choice of words.

She shifted her son on her side and then reached again for the line. She pulled it up more than a foot out of the water and looked at the salmon.

"It is not your lucky day. You are going to be breakfast for my husband", she declared as she struggled with it.

Thatch remained perfectly still as if somehow aware of the treacherous situation.

"Got it!" Elizabeth exclaimed in victory as she gave the pin one final tug and pulled it out of the fish. "Now we just have to put you in my poc-"

Before she could say anymore, a large branch carried by the current knocked into her. Throwing her off balance.

Her body bent and she felt herself unable to stop her descent into the dark churning river.

* * *

Suddenly water was everywhere. Over her ears. Her mouth. Her nose.

Elizabeth sputtered and struggled to get her head above the fast-moving water and to keep it there.

Her elbow, now bruised and battered from hitting a rock, kept slipping as she tried to use it to push herself upwards into the world of oxygen.

In the seconds that it took everything to happen, she prayed that Thatch's face was above water. Her one hand was tightly gripping his clothes as she kept her outstretched arm pushing upwards under his weight. Holding his head above the current as her own face was covered by her hair swirling in the water.

With a final thrust, she pushed her face upwards.

She gasped and sucked in the air. Feeling ironically like the fish who just moments before had been gasping for water. Her mouth open as her chest heaved.

Now that she was sitting with her back facing upstream, she hugged her son to her upper chest, shielding him from the water which was smacking her in the back in an attempt to carry her down river with leaves and fish and fallen branches.

"Hold on, sweetie. We'll be fine", she said loudly in his ear in an effort to be heard about the rush of water, which seemed so much louder now that she was at its level. She pushed her hair from her eyes and saw that he was still breathing. His face was pale and he looked utterly bewildered.

As the small boy clung to her neck, Elizabeth gave a silent firm order to Mother Nature. _If you take me, you spare him._

From the banks of the river, the water had looked fast-moving, but the reality of being in the middle of the river was much more intense. It was unrelenting.

* * *

She didn't dare try to stand again and risk another fall. Elizabeth hadn't been seriously injured - more startled than anything - but she wasn't going to take another chance. The only way to make it safely to the river bank was by going on her knees. Elizabeth couldn't crawl at first – not with the river at this depth - because Thatch, who was holding tightly to her chest, would be submerged by the water. And she didn't dare put him on her back where she couldn't hold him securely.

She was left to move like a person whose legs had been amputated just below the knees. Her body erect. Staggering along on her kneecaps.

"Don't let go. Hold on tight," she instructed Thatch when a wave pushed against them. She worried his wet little fingers would slip.

With the cold water lapping against his body, Thatch obeyed his mother and continued to cling to her neck as she moved through the river. She stumbled over small rocks, and used one hand to steady herself against larger ones while the other hand kept her son smooshed against her.

The water swirled her skirt around her and the current moved against her like the strong hand of nature determined to push her downstream with the other debris from the storm.

She was two feet from shore when her knee slipped and she was spun around by the water. She paused, holding firmly to Thatch and taking a deep breath to calm herself.

The angry river, fed by the hillside streams and the waterfall, continued to forcefully push against her sideways. As if desiring for nothing more than to take two victims.

 **Up next: Chapter 7**


	7. Chapter 7 - Food

**Chapter 7 – Food**

The current had shifted her. Lifting her body off the river bottom and moving her farther from shore.

Elizabeth and Thatch were now four feet away from land. The water was no more than three feet deep.

Two humans. In three feet of water. Needing to move only four feet.

 _This is pathetic_ , Elizabeth thought. _I am so close to the bank! I can make it._

And yet, she was afraid to move.

As long as Elizabeth sat in the water, they were safe. Moving meant risking a fall. Moving meant she might be knocked down by the swift current. Moving meant the possibility of Thatch slipping from her arms and being carried downstream. Moving meant danger.

 _Pull yourself together, Elizabeth. It's only four feet. This is not your first time in a raging river._

 _Although it is the first time with a twenty pound precious baby hanging onto my neck,_ she considered with a frown.

She pulled back her face slightly to look her son in the eyes but he was too busy watching the fast-moving water rushing by to meet her stare. Elizabeth looked over her shoulder in the direction of upstream and then to the bank again.

She desperately wanted Jack to emerge from the trees and rescue them. He would know what to do. He wouldn't even have to think twice. He would rush towards them, getting his pants wet and splashing water, as he took powerful deliberate strides into the river. He would pull them out of the churning water with his strong arms. Carrying Thatch and supporting her. He would save them.

If only he was there rather than asleep in the shack.

But he wasn't there. And wishing for him wouldn't make him appear. Just like wishing for the river to stop moving wouldn't make it happen.

 _Oh, Thatch, how did I get us into this mess?_ she lamented.

She took a deep breath and looked around again and then at her son. This time with determination. _It appears there's only one way out of this mess._

"Don't let go, okay? Mommy's going to get us out of here, so you need to hold on tight and not let go, okay?"

The little boy nodded solemnly.

* * *

"What the hell happened?!" Jack exclaimed when Elizabeth entered the shack ten minutes later. "I was just coming to look for you."

"We fell in," Elizabeth unnecessarily explained. She was dripping water from head to toe. "He's got the hiccups", she said as she handed a sopping wet Thach to Jack.

"Why does he have the hiccups?" a bewildered Jack asked.

"How the heck should I know? He's a baby." She immediately started to take off her shoes and socks in slight irritation at how she managed to be such a complete mess. She had bits of silt in every crevice and she could barely untie her shoe laces due to their wetness.

Jack quickly took control of his son and undressed him. The water-soaked garments seemed to stick to the boy's body as if they were sucked to it by the liquid's molecular nature. When he finally got them removed and twisted them with his strong hands, water ran in a rivulet from the fabric.

"It was much deeper than usual. And wider. It came clear up the banks and past the tree line", Elizabeth explained as she took off her blouse and wrung it out. Allowing the water to pool on the dirt floor.

The naked little boy hiccupped and sat on the floor looking at his father in bewilderment. He had no idea why his mother had soaked them fully clothed into cold water only to hurry them back to the cabin and strip them, and he had no idea why his body was making involuntary spasms. Each time he hiccupped, his eyes got even wider in surprise.

"Is he okay?" Jack asked worriedly.

Elizabeth paused with her blouse in her hands and looked at her son. "Yeah, he's fine. I think the cold water startled him. I'm the one that nearly drowned. He was fine. I kept him above water."

"He's sopping wet!"

"I kept his head above water", Elizabeth clarified.

"Did you _both_ fall in? Are you alright? The baby? Did you hurt anything?"

"I'm fine. The baby's fine. Can we not talk about it anymore?"

"You shouldn't have gone to the river without me."

"I know", Elizabeth admitted. "But you were sleeping. And you needed it."

"I don't care. You shouldn't have gone without me. The river must have been swollen after all that rain."

"It was. I already told you", Elizabeth said as she avoided looking at him and tried to act casual.

"You could have been swept away!" Jack exclaimed. He shook his head at her irresponsibility. "What were you thinking?!"

"I was thinking I was being helpful!"

"You could have drowned! Both of you!"

"I know. I'm sorry. But we're fine. Just a little water-logged."

In the last thirty minutes Elizabeth's emotions had gone from pride at going to find breakfast, excitement at the fish, anger at the fish, total fear of drowning her and their son, and finally, as she walked back from the river, extreme irritation that she had been an utter failure at providing for her husband. The last thing she wanted was to be reminded of the danger she had put her son in.

"Don't do it again", Jack admonished her.

She looked at him with an annoyed protest on her lips but held back when she saw the look in his eye. Once again she was reminded that it was easier for him to act angry than to give into fear whenever he was worried about her.

"What were you doing anyway?"

"Checking the fishing line. For breakfast."

"Did you get anything?"

"A mouthful of water."

"So you risked your lives for nothing?" he said rudely as he picked up his son.

"I didn't think it was for nothing at the time". Her annoyance at herself had turned her voice cold. "And I had a fish but it got away. For goodness sakes, it wasn't like I was going in there for a leisurely bath! I was trying to feed us."

Jack looked over Thatch's head, which was now smooshed against his neck, and stared at his now barefoot wife who was standing on the dirt floor. Water from her knickers dripping onto her toes. She had taken off her skirt and was wringing it out . Making her look like a beggar girl who had been caught in a rainstorm and hadn't been able to afford an umbrella. She didn't notice him looking at her as she used her forearm to wipe wet pieces of hair off her face.

Jack took in the sight of his wife. He loved her. He loved this bedraggled independent woman who would do anything for him. He realized that between his expressions of worry and his reprimands, he had forgotten to say the most important thing. His voice, which had been full of frustration, turned soft.

"Thank you."

* * *

Jack cracked another floorboard over his knee and added the pieces to the pile which he already arranged in the fireplace. "That should do it", he said.

Elizabeth was sitting in the dirt keeping Thatch occupied by drawing pictures with a stick. The little boy had stopped hicupping sometime between riding on his father's shoulders to lay their clothes on a tree branch and rolling his naked body in the dirt for no particular reason other than he wanted to.

"How long until the wood outside dries enough so we can burn it?"

"A couple days unless we move it out into the sun somewhere. All that rain with the shade of the forest, and the wood's going to be wet for a while. We're just lucky we have these floorboards. But it's a good idea to move some into a sunny spot. I'll do it after we eat."

"I didn't get any fish", she reminded him glumly.

"I'll get us something", Jack declared. "It may take a while, but I'll get us something."

* * *

The squirrel was small despite being an adult. Wanting to save his last few bullets until absolutely necessary, Jack had used a rock to kill the animal.

"Where in the world did you learn to do that?" Elizabeth had asked in amazement when Jack, quietly sitting and waiting until his prey was in sight, had brought the squirrel down with a fast rock pitch to its head.

A pleased Jack grinned. "Years of living on a farm and spending all day outdoors. Ma wouldn't always let me and Tom take the rifle but we still wanted to act grown up and put food on the table. We fought over who got to the use the slingshot, and when Tom would start to cry like a baby, I'd let him. That left me with just pitching a rock."

"But that was years ago. And you still have your aim", she responded in amazement.

Jack chuckled. "Playing darts at the academy kept me in good shape."

Elizabeth looked at the meat which Jack had just cooked over the small fire for their dinner. It was no more than the size of her fist. Jack could eat it all in three bites and still want more. Instead, he pulled off a few small bits and handed them to Thatch.

Thatch, his face already stained with berries, nibbled on a piece and then stuffed another one into his mouth.

Jack tore off a small piece for himself and then handed the rest to Elizabeth. It wasn't much, but it was clearly the largest portion of the meal.

"Jack, you need to eat more. Take some of this," Elizabeth argued when she saw the size.

"I'm fine. That's your share."

"That wasn't a very _even_ share. You gave most of it to me", she countered as she took a small bite and then handed the rest back to him.

"You need it."

"So do you," she quarreled as she refused to eat another bite.

Elizabeth had noticed that at every meal they had eaten in the last few days – the berries, the fish, the rabbit, and now the squirrel- Jack always gave her the largest portion. "You're doing most of the work. You eat it", she suggested.

"I'll eat when I catch some fish. I'll check the line in a bit."

"No. You'll eat now. We may not have a fire left to cook any fish even if you catch some."

When Jack refused to take the meat from her outstretched hand, Elizabeth spoke again,

"Please, Jack. You need to eat."

Jack shook his head. "I'm fine."

"At least divide it equally between us."

"Okay," he agreed. It seemed almost a little too easy to Elizabeth.

Jack took the squirrel from Elizabeth's hand and divided it into four pieces, each no bigger than her thumb. "Four equal shares," he declared.

"Four?" she asked in confusion.

"Four." He put one in his mouth, handed the other three to her, and stood up. "There, I've had mine."

"Explain", she ordered.

"One is your share so you need to eat it. One is the share of my son or daughter that you happen to be carrying in your belly. So you need to eat that one also. The third share is for Thatch -"

"He's already had his share", Elizabeth interrupted.

"This is _your_ share for him. You're still breastfeeding him so this is to replenish you. You need to eat extra when you're breastfeeding. If you're going to make sure he has a full belly, I'm going to make sure that you do. Now eat them all and stop arguing. I'll go bring some wood out into the sun and then check the fishing line."

Before she could think of a response, Jack had turned and walked away before Elizabeth could hear his stomach grumbling in hunger.

Jack wondered how any more days it would be until they were rescued.

More than that, he wondered how many days he could wait until he would have to leave Elizabeth in charge while he hiked out of the area and tried to find help.

* * *

 _Two more days. I'll wait two more days._

Jack decided that if the train or some form of help didn't come by then, he'd leave Elizabeth and Thatch and go look for help.

The question was what would they do for food without him. He had spent most of the day thinking about it.

There were plenty of deer in the area and Jack knew that he could kill one with a well-placed shot. But a dead deer without a knife to field-dress it would be useless. The internal organs would spread bacteria throughout the deer's body. Rendering it inedible. It would be different if this was the wintertime with snow and ice to keep the meat from rotting. But in this heat, the fresh-kill would spoil within an hour if the entrails, stomach, lungs, and other organs weren't removed. Without a knife to cut open the carcass, it was impossible to make the deer suitable for eating.

Two days. He'd give it two days. Before he left, he'd kill as many squirrel, rabbit, and fish as he could and feed his wife and son until their bellies couldn't take any more. He wouldn't be able to leave them with any meat or fish - it would just spoil even if cooked - so they'd have to eat up before he left.

He'd gather nuts and crush their shells between rocks, then cook the pile for his family to eat while he was gone. He'd tie the fishing line closer to shore for Elizabeth to reach in an emergency

 _They can survive off of nuts and an occasional fish while I'm gone_.

The gun. What to do about the gun.

After firing his weapon at the snake and then at the coyotes, Jack had four bullets left. If he left the gun with Elizabeth, he'd be traveling for miles with nothing to protect himself. If he took the weapon with him, he'd have to tell Elizabeth to stay inside the shack where she would be safe. She would obey him if he told her how important it was.

 _But then how will she get water to drink? Or go fishing?_

 _How can I leave her without a weapon?!_

 _But I need it._

 _But she needs it to protect her and our son. She hates guns but she'd use it if she needed to. To scare away a wolf or coyote._

 _But that would leave me defenseless. And without any shelter. She'd at least have shelter._

As Jack wandered back from the stream where he had checked the line for the third time that day, he gave up thinking of the impossible choice he had to make. He knew he'd find help eventually. His greatest fear was that when he returned with help, he'd find his family dead.

* * *

Thatch was exhausted. His body was limp as Elizabeth took him off her breast and laid him down on the floor. She didn't bother buttoning her blouse which was damp with sweat. She had already rolled up the sleeves and wasn't wearing her shoes and socks; it was simply too hot and humid even in the shade of the forest. It didn't help that they had a small fire going in the fireplace, but they weren't willing to let it go out after they had managed to get it lit again. There was no guarantee they'd be able to light another one.

When Jack finally walked in the structure, he dumped a handful of shelled nuts onto the floor and began easing them next to the burning coals in the fireplace.

"They have to cook before they'll be edible. I'm sorry I couldn't find anymore. I stole these from the squirrel nest that came down with that huge limb. Apparently, the squirrel wasn't a very good hoarder."

"They'll be fine. And help may come tomorrow."

"Yeah, you're probably right. But let's keep these handy in case you . . . I mean we need them." Jack hadn't told Elizabeth of his plan to leave if they hadn't been rescued in two days.

She didn't notice the slip of his tongue as she ran her hand along her neck and shoulders, massaging the aching muscles.

He nodded towards their son. "He's worn out."

"He's definitely more your son than mine. He loves the outdoors. I think he managed to find every rock, stick, hole, thorny bush, and slug out there. He didn't even bother to nap today. Too many puddles to play in."

Jack turned from the fireplace and sat on the floor. His feet flat on the ground with his elbows resting on his knees. He stared at his wife. She was illuminated by the sunset visible through the window opening and by an occasional flicker of the blaze behind Jack.

She looked weary. Her clothes were wrinkled and her skirt had a long rip in it from where it had caught on the thorny bush. Her hair was a mess.

"Do you want me to comb your hair?"

Elizabeth scrunched her eyebrows and gave him a curious look.

"If you give me your comb, I'll comb your hair for you", he offered. "I know you like that."

Elizabeth retrieved her comb from her small bag, walked the short distance in her dirty bare feet, and sat down in front of Jack. With her back to him, she reached over her shoulder and handed him the comb.

"You must be really bored" she chuckled. "But I appreciate it."

* * *

When Jack finished detangling her long hair, he gathered it off to one side and moved it over her shoulder. He gently placed his lips on her bare neck.

Her skin tasted salty from the heat.

A relaxed Elizabeth remained silent as she moved her fingers over one another in her hair. Braiding it into a thick plait.

Her fingers paused two inches from the bottom of her hair when she sensed him lower his head again. His breath was warm as it touched her flesh.

The soft exhalation of air from his lungs onto her neck made her feel a stirring farther down her body.

His lips touched her again.

Jack hadn't intended to make love to her tonight. Not here on the dirty floor. Not when they were hot and tired and hungry. But he wanted her. He wanted her before he left her.

Elizabeth tilted her head to the side. Giving Jack access to more of her skin. She loved the feel of his mouth on her.

His lips moved upward to her earlobe. Downwards to the dip behind the collarbone. Along the back just under her hairline. Gauging her reaction.

His kisses made her wonder how it could be that she had never known before how many sensual parts a neck had.

He murmured something but she didn't hear what it was. She didn't care. It could have been next week's grocery list and she still would have found it sexy.

She tried to discern the reason for his tender emotions. Wondering how far he wanted to take things. But then he lowered her blouse off her shoulders and kissed the small freckle between her shoulder blades. Suddenly, she wasn't interested at all in why he wanted to make love tonight in this barren place. All she cared about was how wonderful it felt to have him touch her.

Jack and Elizabeth didn't think about the run-down cabin. Or the woods. Or the heat and the humidity. They didn't think about the bugs and dirt. Or even that they had been desperate to be rescued.

He turned her around and leaned her down, stretching their bodies out until she was lying on the ground under him. He put the weight of his firm body on his forearms. Careful not to press on her belly which was slightly rounded from her pregnancy.

Elizabeth's hands cupped Jack's face as their mouths met, until she finally had to release him so she could breathe. He tasted deliciously like mint. Not the mint of a store-bought Life Saver candy, but the mint from the fresh green leaves they had been chewing to dull their hunger.

His tongue wet the skin between her breasts, and his breath became ragged as he moved on her. She lifted her arms above her head and he pulled her undergarment off. The clothing with its fine Belgian lace trim had been pristine a few days ago. It was now wrinkled and soiled with stains of berries and sweat as it landed in a crumple on the dirt.

His mouth began to roam her body more, inching farther down her soft smooth skin until it got to the waistband of her skirt. She could hear her own breathing, fast and deep, but she didn't try to contain it.

They didn't worry about Thatch. He was far too tired to be awoken by their sounds.

Elizabeth felt the moist heat between them as she struggled to take off Jack's shirt, pushing it off his shoulders.

He moved his hands on her, pushing up her skirt.

He needed her. He needed to love her one more time before he left her.

 **Up next: Chapter 8**


	8. Chapter 8 Rescue

**CHAPTER 8 - RESCUE**

"What are you? Crazy?" Elizabeth asked when Jack mentioned his plan the next morning. "You are not leaving us here."

Her face was skeptically scrunched up as she stared at her husband. He might as well have declared that he was sprouting wings and could fly back to Bear Creek for a glass of lemonade and a pastry in the next five minutes.

"Elizabeth –"

"Stop. Just stop right there. You are not leaving us here." She held up her hand to silence him. "Now take your son while I go to the bathroom", she ordered as she shifted Thatch from her hip and held him outwards towards Jack.

Jack took his son from her outstretched arms but refused to be silent.

"What if a bridge was washed out from the storm? It could be weeks until it's repaired and a train gets through to us. We have no idea when a train will be by again. Or if the railroad company even remembers the exact location of where they stopped before. They could be looking for us miles from here. There is no guarantee the train company is coming for us. "

"The Mounties will come. You're one of their own," Elizabeth said as if it were an uncontestable fact that the Force wouldn't leave a fellow Mountie in the wilderness. Forgetting for a moment that Mounties are actually trained to live alone in the wilderness.

"They may not be able to locate the area where we were left behind. I just told you that they could be searching miles from here!"

"Then we'll light a signal fire for them. Or walk along the tracks. Or send a message down river in a bottle."

Jack scowled. "Would you be reasonable?"

"I will be reasonable when you start acting sensible. You are not leaving us. For goodness sakes, you could be killed out there. And then what would happen to us?"

"I'm not going to be killed out there. I'll have my gun."

"We're safest staying here – all three of us."

"I don't even have a knife! How am I supposed to feed us?"

"You're doing fine. We have fish and rabbit and nuts and berries."

"The berry bushes won't last forever. The traps are too simple. I can't kill anything big enough for a decent meal without a knife to field dress it", he explained in exasperation.

"You can do that thing with the rock", she said simply. "When you throw it really fast. Like you did with the squirrel."

"And when the killer comes back? What happens then if we're still here naively waiting to be rescued?"

"Exactly. What happens if the killer comes back and you're not here? I don't care if you think you can be back with help in three or four days before he gets here. And I don't care that it will be a long walk for me. And I even don't care that we are living off of so little food that I am starting to understand cannibalism on a whole new level. You are not leaving us."

"You need to think of what may happen if we stay here."

"The other day you asked me about the mine in Hope Valley. If I remembered the rainstorm. When we said we loved each other."

"Yeah. So?"

"Do you remember what you said before that?"

"Before the mine?" Jack looked utterly confused.

"Before you told me that you loved me."

Jack scrunched his eyebrows as he remembered that day so long ago. "That Rip was a stupid dog afraid of thunder but I was glad because it led to us being together?"

Elizabeth looked at Jack with exasperation. "That we can face any challenge as long as we are together. Tooogeeettthheeeer", she said again, stringing out the last word for emphasis.

"You know perfectly well that I was talking about your family and our social classes not about being stranded in the wilderness for days with dead bodies and no knife."

"Whatever", Elizabeth replied with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"I don't want to leave you –"

"Then don't", she said with finality as she turned and walked out the door.

Jack raked his hands through this hair in frustration as he watched her disappear from his sight. He should never have brought up his plan. _Stupid!_ he berated himself _. I should have waited until tomorrow._

Jack wished he could go back in time by fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes ago, when he had woken up, she had been laying on the ground next to him. Her head resting on his chest. It had been so peaceful and perfect that a sleepy Jack had forgotten where they were. He had simply lain there with his eyes closed and enjoyed the feel of her soft skin on him. If it wasn't for the loud croaking of the bullfrog who had found its way into the cabin, Jack would have stayed there blissfully thinking they were in bed back home.

But the bullfrog . . . and then the bugs . . . . and Thatch waking up and crawling on him with a fist full of dirt and a worm - dropping it on his face - had all brought reality back to Jack. And reality meant that he needed to go for help.

He hated arguing with Elizabeth.

 _She is so stubborn! Why can't she just always agree with what I say?!_

Jack sighed _. Because then she wouldn't be the woman I love._

* * *

Jack sat on a log and jabbed a sharp stick into Elizabeth's small shoulder bag which was emptied of cloth diapers, her hair comb, and the Life Saver candy wrapper. He maneuvered the stick farther into the fabric until he had made the tiny hole he created into the same size as the other holes he had already made. Each one was now the size of a penny.

"Do you think it will work?" Elizabeth asked from her position in the dirt where she smacking a bug off her leg.

"I hope. I'll tie it between two rocks. The water will rush right through it while the fish get swept in and trapped."

"Between that and the fishing line, we should be okay."

"If it works," Jack countered pensively.

"I'm sure it will. It's basic gravity and physics."

"I still think I should leave and go for help."

"And I said no."

"But it may be our best chance out of here."

"Fine." Elizabeth said as she smacked another bug. "We'll all go together as a family."

"I already explained. You'll slow me down. I will have to hike up hills and probably swim a river or two."

Elizabeth shook her head in exhaustion at arguing with Jack. Her stomach contents – a few bites of cooked bullfrog – did nothing to stop it from aching.

"Fine. Go," she said wearily. "Just go. I give up arguing with you."

A startled Jack dropped the bag from his hands and looked at her in shock. "What did you say?"

"I said just go."

"Are you sure? he asked eagerly. "You'll be okay staying here?"

"Oh, we're not going to stay here. Don't be silly. We're going to follow you."

"Follow me?"

Elizabeth nodded pleasantly. "Yes, follow you."

"You can't follow me!"

"You can keep us from going _with_ you but you can't keep us from following you", Elizabeth explained simply as if the matter was settled.

"Thatch sweetie, you need to stay close in case Daddy decides to sneak away. We have to be ready to follow him", she turned and said in a pleasant voice to their son before Jack could respond.

It was then that Jack finally gave up his idea of leaving them. He also started to regret that he had once mentioned that they could face any challenge as long as they were together.

 _This definitely wasn't what I had in mind_.

 _I just wanted to kiss her and make her mine._

 _I wasn't thinking of starving in a shack when I should be going for help._

* * *

"You know this blouse came from Salon de Mode in Hamilton," Elizabeth remarked wistfully two hour laters as she looked down at her dirty torn blouse. "Mother sent it to me last month. I think as an incentive and to remind me of all the wonderful shopping in the city."

"I'll buy you another one when we get there", Jack replied. He was struggling with another trap. This one was made of sticks which he had woven together. "Pass me the fish guts."

"What kind of animal are you expecting to get with fish guts."

"I'm hoping for a toad."

"Lovely", Elizabeth said with a resigned sigh as she put the entrails into Jack's outstretched hand. She watched as Jack set the trap, took a step back and looked at it critically, and then gave a shrug when he realized there was nothing more he could do.

She moved a few inches to the right from her spot on the log and Jack sat down next to her. He wiped his hands on his pants leg, where the remnants of fish guts mingled with the stains from the last few days. Rabbit, squirrel, bullfrog, snake, fish, and berries. Even the nuts had left a few dark stains from their hulls.

"This isn't exactly how it was supposed to be," she said with a sigh as she looked down at Jack's dirty hands and then at her own broken fingernails.

"What isn't?"

"Our vacation."

Jack looked at their son and chuckled. "He's enjoying himself." Thatch had taken the spoon he found days earlier and was smacking it in a small puddle watching the muddy drops of water spray up and land on him.

"Who knew a plain metal spoon could provide so much entertainment. We never have to buy him a toy."

"it's actually got a faded pattern on it. Some kind of scrolling. Our son has a sophisticated taste," Jack joked.

* * *

The gunshot rang through the forest causing Jack, Elizabeth, and little Jack Thatcher Thornton to all stop what they were doing and look towards the North, where the sound seemed to originate.

"What –"

"Shhh" Jack ordered as he held up his hand for her to be quiet.

Another gunshot blasted through the air a few seconds later. This time coming from the West.

Elizabeth frantically looked around but Jack remained still and kept his hand up to silence her.

Five seconds later, a third gunshot, this one from the East, caused Jack to stand up and reach for his weapon.

Without a word to a confused Elizabeth, he fired two shots into the air.

"Jack?" Elizabeth asked hesitantly.

Jack grinned. "We've been rescued."

* * *

It was a routine rescue code Jack explained as they waited for the men on horseback to arrive. Five second intervals between shots letting the others know the searcher was safe and still looking. Two shots if he found something.

"Over here,", Jack yelled into the distance five minutes later when he heard his name being called.

The three men all arrived within a few minutes of each other. Their arrival on horseback with their bright red coats and wide-brimmed Stetson hats threw Thatch into confusion and he looked around at his rescue party.

Wildly jerking his head from one man to the next, Thatch clung tighter to Jack, the only other man he had ever seen wear the distinctive uniform of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police. He refused to let Jack put him down as if worried that one of the men impersonating his father would try to take him.

"Elizabeth, would you please take him?" Jack pleaded as he tried to hand the boy to her.

"He won't let me," she remarked as she put her hands out for Thatch. He shook his head and kept his arms around Jack's neck. Burying his small face into Jack's body.

* * *

By the time the Mounties had finished examining the bodies, making diagrams, and having Jack draw sketches of the dead men's faces, Jack was quite at ease having his son with him while he worked a murder scene.

If the other Mounties found it odd to have a Sergeant explain two murder scenes and a possible motive while now carrying a toddler on his shoulders, they handled it well. Especially after Jack explained that it was his son who discovered the copper tubing, glass bottle, and potato.

And by the time they had buried the bodies and sat down to relax before the long horseback ride back to civilization, the men in uniform were calling Thatch "Mini-Mountie".

The men had been searching for Jack and the others after receiving urgent telegrams from William Thatcher, and then learning from the derelict train company that it too was concerned about the loss of three passengers. If the train company had been more accurate as to where it had broken down, the rescue would have been much earlier, one of the Mounties explained.

"Sorry it took us so long to rescue you, but with the lack of a precise location and then the storm, it wasn't easy. You're lucky that you found the cabin and had shelter."

"Too bad it involved finding two dead bodies."

"Do you think the man in the river killed the man in the bushes or the other way around? And then someone killed him? Or do you think one murderer killed both of the other two?" the blond-haired Mountie, who looked to be the youngest of the trio, asked.

They were all sitting on the ground in front of the shack eating food from the Mountie-issued saddlebags and discussing possible scenarios for the two dead men.

Jack took the knife offered by one of the Mounties, cut off a one-inch slab of salami, and handed it to Elizabeth.

"The man in the bushes was shot by someone who was right-handed. That explains why the bullet to the forehead was above the left eye. The man in the river was left-handed. So, he couldn't have been the one to kill him."

"How do you know the man in the river was left-handed? He was dead when you found him," the young constable asked.

"Because he wore his wrist-watch on his right arm," Elizabeth spoke up.

When the three men in uniform looked to Elizabeth and then at Jack, he swallowed a hunk of meat, and then nodded in agreement. "She's right. He wore it on the right. A left-handed man wears it on the right, and a right-handed man wears it on the left."

"So, the man in the river didn't kill anyone", the mustached Mountie remarked.

"Exactly. And I doubt the man in the bushes killed the man in the river. The man in the river was running away. My guess is that he was reacting to the first shooting. He heard it. Saw it." Jack shrugged. "Something."

A red-haired sergeant passed Elizabeth and Jack each a biscuit. "So, we've got ourselves a murderer who killed two people and our only clue to him is that he's right-handed. That's got to be half the population", he declared in frustration.

"Actually, more than 90 percent of the population is right-handed", Elizabeth volunteered. She tore off a piece of the biscuit and handed it to Thatch. Not noticing the men staring at her, she continued casually. "It's highly likely that your murder, or murderers, are right-handed."

Jack noticed the looks they gave each other. "She's a school teacher," he explained simply. "She knows stuff."

Elizabeth again spoke up as she continued to feed Thatch. "If I happen to have a left-handed student – I have two this term– I have to sit them on the far end of the rows. Otherwise, their elbows bump with the righties when they write", she added. "About 10 percent of the population is left-handed. Although it can change slightly through the decades", she rambled in a friendly manner.

"Which means we're looking for a right-handed man or woman", one of the men interjected.

"Not a woman", Elizabeth corrected.

This time she felt the men's eyes staring at her. When she looked up she got the distinct impression that they weren't use to a woman being so involved in her husband's occupation. Not that they minded, they just weren't accustomed to handling two murder investigations with the help of a toddler and a wife.

Elizabeth shrugged as she handed another piece of biscuit to her son. "I'm just saying, it could be a woman but it's probably not."

"Because women can't be killers or because they wouldn't be camping in the woods?"

"Oh, believe me, they can be killers." Elizabeth said.

She chewed a piece of the biscuit herself and thought about her own past encounter with a cold-hearted woman. One who had no qualms about hurting anyone who had gotten in her way. It had been more than a year since the incident but Elizabeth still remembered every detail about her and Jack's escape from a trio of poachers who had left her for dead. "And I think I've shown that women can camp in the woods."

"Then why can't our killer be a woman?"

"We found tobacco juice stains on the floorboards. Women may smoke cigarettes but they do not chew tobacco. I don't care what social class they belong to. A woman simply does not chew tobacco. If I were you, I would look for a tobacco chewing right-handed man."

"Maybe one of the dead men is the one who chewed the tobacco," the youngest Mountie offered.

"No. They didn't have stained teeth. At least the one in the bushes didn't", Elizabeth volunteered.

The red-haired sergeant looked at Elizabeth with raised eyebrows. "How exactly do you know that?"

"She fell into his face", Jack responded as if that were an ordinary occurrence. "And she's right. He didn't. Neither did the man in the river."

The three men in uniform looked at each. One shook his head in amusement. "So, your son found the bootleg evidence and your wife found the dead bodies."

Jack shrugged good-naturedly and chuckled. "This is our family vacation. We're doing things as a family."

"I think we all agree that it is most likely that our culprit is a right-handed man who chews tobacco. Which means he could be almost anyone."

"I'm just glad you men will be handling it", Elizabeth said as she looked at the rescuers. "We're done with worrying about a killer. We still have a few days left on our vacation and I plan to enjoy them. No thinking about dead bodies."

"Here, Here." The men raised their tin cups in a toast.

"To Hamilton!"

"To no more bad luck!"

Jack and Elizabeth smiled at each other as they anticipated relaxing and putting the past few days behind them.

Jack didn't mind at all that it wasn't his jurisdiction and that he wouldn't be handling the investigation. Not that there would be much of one. Without anything to tie the killer to the crime, the killer would get away with murder.

Jack - like the other adults in the group who were smiling and enjoying their meal- didn't realize that there actually was a clue linking the killer to the murders.

And little Jack Thatcher Thornton had already found it.

If only it doesn't cause his death, everything will be perfect.

 **Up Next: Chapter 9**


	9. Chapter 9 - The Clue Makes a Sound

_**Dear Readers - Thank you for all your reviews! I appreciate every one!**_

 **CHAPTER 9 - THE CLUE MAKES A SOUND**

The men bandaged the few scrapes and cuts that Jack, Elizabeth, and Thatch had gotten over the past few days. Gave them salve for the bites that were red and itchy. And made sure their stomachs were full before the entire group took off for the first stop on their way to civilization.

"We'll make it as far as the forest ranger's place by nightfall and then you can decide how you want to travel in the morning," Sergeant Madison, the red-haired Mountie, explained as he handed Thatch up to Jack, who held the leather reins to one of the horses.

"Ma'am", he said as he turned and offered up his hands with his fingers looped together for Elizabeth to use as a step.

Elizabeth put her soiled left shoe in the man's offered hands, hoisted herself on the horse, and settled herself behind Jack. She put her hands around her husband's waist as she looked down and spoke to Sergeant Madison. "How long did you say it would be?"

"About four hours. It will be sparse accommodations but it's better than in a tent. And we'll make you a nice dinner," he explained with a smile. "You're on a fine horse 'til then."

* * *

The forest ranger was used to isolation and, if he was lucky, the occasional visit from a lone Mountie to break up the monotony of living in a remote location where his duties included patrolling forest areas and being alert for fires. His duties rarely – well, never- included hosting a dinner party. Four Mounties, a woman, and a small boy were now crowded in his one room log cabin. He shuffled around his guests, trying to be a proper host.

"Thank you. That was wonderful," Jack said appreciatively as he took another forkful of stew. He stretched his arm over the head of his son who was sprawled and sleeping on his lap, and set down the now empty plate on the small and simple wooden table in front of him. It was meant as a table for one - maybe two - and the ranger had insisted that the rescued family use it while the other men sat on the floor and on the edge of the single mattress to eat.

"I think it's time for us all to go to bed for the night," Elizabeth remarked as she stifled a yawn. "It's been a long day." She glanced around the sparsely furnished room and wondered where seven people were going to sleep.

The forest ranger followed her gaze. "Don't worry ma'am. You and your boy can have the bed. The weather's good and we all have tents."

"I'll be right outside", Jack said twenty minutes later as he reached over and gave Elizabeth a quick peck goodnight. The simple dishes had been cleaned away and the other men were already bedding down. Jack had set up a borrowed tent next to the those of the others.

"I changed my mind", Elizabeth said when Jack started to turn away from her. She put her hand out to keep him from closing the wooden door between them.

"Changed your mind?" He gave her puzzled look.

"We're sleeping in a tent with you. Tell Ranger Watkins he can have his bed back."

* * *

Elizabeth could not wait for this trip to be over.

She choked back her cup of strong black coffee and wondered if all rangers prefer their morning caffeine without any cream or sugar. As she stretched her aching back, she seriously questioned her decision last night to be sentimental rather than comfortable. The air had been muggy, the night filled with sounds of wildlife, and the thin mat between her and the ground had done little to cushion her. But as she had explained to Jack, she didn't feel comfortable sleeping in another man's bed with her husband outside in a tent.

Now she just wanted to get back to civilization and a real house with a thick mattress on a double bed frame.

Thatch was the determining factor in which direction they would go as the men saddled up their horses.

"I guess he's getting tired of horses", Jack said as the little boy, normally eager to be around the large animals, shook his head and pouted when he was carried towards them.

"He's been so good, but it's a lot for him. Four hours yesterday and more today. He might sleep for a bit more while we ride but he's going to start to get antsy."

"Sergeant Anderson said we have two choices."

"Which do you think we should take?"

"We can go with him to Stanleytown. It's a bit of a detour and we'll have to spend the night there and take a stage or wagon to Abbotsford tomorrow to catch a train, but it's probably better than riding with the others directly to Abbotsford. That'd be ten or eleven hours today. Probably too much for Thatch."

"I have to admit that I'm with Thatch on this one," Elizabeth replied. "Let's go to Stanleytown."

* * *

It was late afternoon when Elizabeth fell onto the bed of the "Stanleytown Grand Hotel", causing its worn metal springs to squeak loudly.

"This is heaven", she exclaimed as she looked up at the ceiling.

The room was far from heaven. Its double bed had a headboard and footboard made of smooth metal rods. Its lack of fancy finials gave it the appearance of an oversized hospital bed.

Covering the horsehair mattress were plain white sheets and a worn but clean checkered quilt on top of them. A wooden nightstand with a chip in the corner stood on one side of the bed. The only thing grand about the hotel was the word in its name. Jack had apologized for the somewhat shabby accommodations but Elizabeth hadn't cared. Anything looked better than the shack in the woods or the tent last night.

Jack opened the door to the right of the bed and looked inside. "We share the bathroom with the room next door. Do you want to wash up first while I watch Thatch? Then we can go the mercantile and pick up more diapers and anything else you need. We can either eat dinner downstairs or find somewhere else. What do you think?"

Jack walked into the small bathroom and looked at the threadbare towels. At least there was a clean bar of soap. "Elizabeth, did you hear what I said? We'll wash up and then go out."

When she didn't respond, Jack went to the doorway. He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms as he took in the scene in front of him. Elizabeth lay on the bed where she had collapsed just a few minutes earlier. Her eyes were closed in the first peaceful sleep in days.

* * *

Three hours later, the family, now rested and cleaned up, entered the restaurant four doors down the street from the hotel. After having spent the past few days in the isolating woods, the establishment with its crowded tables and the constant hum of voices took Elizabeth by surprise.

"There's a table over there", she said as she pointed toward the far side of the large room. The couple had thought about going to a nicer place to dine but one look in the mirror at their clothes and they realized they probably would have been turned away at the door of a more expensive restaurant. The fact that Jack had his weapon with him didn't add to their appearance of a family simply looking for a nice dinner. "I can't leave it behind in a hotel room", Jack explained when he put on his holster.

Elizabeth didn't want to argue about their attire; any place was fine as long as she could sit at a table, eat a meal with utensils, have food served on a china plate, and drink out of something other than a tin cup, an old bottle, or her cupped hands.

While they waited for their food to arrive, Elizabeth took in the scene. Most of the families were finishing their meals already, and the tables were now starting to fill up with men who wanted a good meal at a decent price and with a steady stream of alcohol. A dart board on the back wall had become a popular attraction, as had two somewhat attractive women who had pushed back their chairs from the table and were laughing loudly.

When the waiter put the plates with chicken and mashed potatoes in front them, Elizabeth and Jack both looked at each other and smiled. Finally, it felt like their vacation had started.

"These are delicious," Elizabeth remarked with a pleasurable sigh as finished swallowing a bite. "Ummm. They're so buttery."

She noticed Thatch ignoring the spoon in front of him. Instead, he was extending his hand to her. Knowing what he wanted, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the spoon he had found at the shack.

Jack looked at her and scoffed. "You saved that thing?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "He likes it."

* * *

"I'm stuffed" Jack said as he leaned back in his chair and put his napkin on his empty plate. "I say we order more dessert," he added with a grin. After being on a limited diet for days, he wanted all the food he saw, and right now the waiter was walking by with a slice of pie.

The restaurant had become more and more lively throughout the evening. The clientele which had sipped on glasses of wine had been replaced by patrons drinking hard liquor and smoking cigars and cigarettes. There was a constant buzz of noise and conversations.

"Let's have some music", someone yelled, and within a minute a man had pulled a harmonica out of his pocket and the sound was filling the room. Rowdy men and even rowdier women began shouting toasts to each other as they celebrated someone's birthday.

* * *

Jack and Elizabeth didn't pay too much attention to the music from across the room as they finished their slices of lemon meringue pie and sipped cups of soothing tea. Although it had begun to get louder as someone else joined in with another instrument, the atmosphere was jovial.

It was Thatch that caused Elizabeth to pause in mid-sentence. She had been telling Jack how much she loved him and promising not to spend too much money in Hamilton or make him attend any black-tie functions, when she realized that Thatch was ignoring the lemon filling on the plate in front of him. He had twisted his body in the wooden highchair so that he could see the source of a new sound he had heard. His head bobbing side to side in pace with it.

Elizabeth turned her head and followed his gaze. The musical sound of spoons hitting against each other in tempo fascinated the small boy and he stared at the large man across the room.

The burly man held two spoons in one hand, each between a different pair of fingers, with the concave surfaces facing each other. He struck them against his thigh in a practiced pattern. With his other hand, he frequently picked up a bottle from the table in front of him and drank almost in rhythm to the music he was making by the clanging spoons.

The man, even with alcohol in his system, manipulated the utensils in a coordinated movement, slapping them together, to create a regular beat, which had other patrons tapping their feet and nodding their heads as they appreciated the music.

"He likes the sound", Elizabeth remarked with a smile as she nodded towards the table across the room.

"I'll take him over to watch for a few minutes", Jack said as he set down the tea. "Get the bill when the waiter walks by again?"

With his son in his arms, he moved closer to the chairs where the harmonica player and spoons player were sitting. Two diners had pushed back their chairs and were dancing to the beat. Tapping their feet furiously and clapping their hands. Faster and faster they moved their feet as the spoons moved faster and faster to make a song.

Jack tapped his own foot to the beat and smiled as his son began clapping his small hands together. The idea of using eating utensils to make folk music was unique to this part of Canada, but the patrons seemed to be familiar with it and were clearly enjoying the sounds.

Jack was about to turn around and go back to get Elizabeth when something in the recesses of his mind caused him to pause. He focused on the details of the scene in front of him.

The man had the look of someone who was uncouth. Rough around the edges - and maybe rough through and through. Someone not afraid of hard living.

It was obvious by the way that he manipulated the spoons that the man was right-handed. _But so is most of the population._

Jack looked at the bottle of alcohol on the table. _It could be anything._

The spoons. _The_ _spoon Thatch found at the shack?_

Jack turned from the crowd. _No, it can't be._

He handed the baby to Elizabeth and walked over to the bar which ran along the side of the restaurant.

"Can you tell me what that man is drinking?" Jack asked the bartender.

He pointed towards the man who had now stopped playing at the end of a long song. The spoon-player set his utensils on the table before getting up and approaching the dart board.

The man behind the counter glanced in the direction Jack was pointing. It was hard to miss the object of his question. Bert was taller than most men and certainly taller than everyone in the restaurant. He was best when left alone due to his quick temper and physical size. Bert had started his share of fights – and always finished them standing. Unlike his competitors. And he always paid for any damage he had caused to the furniture.

"What's it to you?"

"I'm just curious. He seems to enjoy it. It doesn't have a label on it."

"Look. I don't want no trouble", the man, sensing that Jack may be in law enforcement, replied. "He brings it himself. He sells it to me sometimes. A couple cases at a time."

"He live around here?"

"Nah. Don't know abouts where. But not here. Bert comes to town about once a month. Usually with his business partners."

"His partners?"

"Partners. Friends. Whatever."

"Where are his friends tonight."

"I dunno. They didn't come with him this time. Look, I gotta get back to my customers", the man said as he looked at Jack with a mixture of annoyance and trying to be polite.

"One more question."

"Give a guy a break, okay? I don't want any trouble. I won't buy any more from him."

"You're fine", Jack said while managing to be both professional and easy-going at the same time. A bartender buying moonshine was the least of his worries. "I'm not here to cause problems for you. I just got one more question."

"What is it?"

"Does he always play the spoons?"

The bartender, clearly not anticipating an inquiry about music, looked surprised by the question. "Not always. Sometimes he's busy brawling", the man replied with a smirk. "But yeah, he's usually got his spoons with him."

"I'm still waiting for the bill. What's going on?" Elizabeth asked when Jack came back to the table.

"Nothing. Where's that spoon? The one Thatch had."

"I just put it away. It's in my pocket. Use this one", she said a she handed him the restaurant's plain metal spoon from the table. She gave him a curious stare. "Why do you want a spoon?"

"No. I want to see the other one. It had a design engraved on it", Jack explained as he refused the plain metal restaurant spoon and reached out his hand.

When she handed him the spoon, Jack ran his fingers over the engraved pattern before placing the utensil into his pocket.

He glanced towards the dartboard and saw Bert hand several bills to a woman who was holding what was obviously a betting pool. It looked like the man would be busy for a few minutes.

* * *

"Those are my spoons", the man noted as he approached his table and saw Jack holding the two utensils.

"Interesting music you were making."

"You don't like it, you can go somewhere else", Bert remarked rudely.

"I didn't say I didn't like it. I just said it was interesting."

"Folk music", the man replied simply as he reached for his bottle.

"Your spoons don't match each other", Jack remarked pleasantly as he finished running his finger over the worn engraved scroll of one spoon and then glanced at the other spoon which was plain and unadorned. The simple spoon matched the others used by the restaurant.

The engraved spoon matched the one in Jack's pocket.

"What's it to you?"

"Just making conversation," Jack replied as he set the spoons back down on the table.

"I used to have a matched set. I lost one", Bert replied with a shrug. He picked up the spoons and slipped them into his pocket.

"Where'd you lose it?"

"If I knew that, it wouldn't be lost now would it?"

"You been in town long?"

"Long enough to know that I don't know you and I don't like your nosy questions."

"No harm intended. I'm a curious type", Jack said with a smile. "Where'd you come from? Before you arrived here in Stanleytown?"

The man didn't answer but let his eyes take in Jack's neat haircut, his holster on his hip, his attention to detail. He used his tongue to move a wad of tobacco held between his inside lip and bottom teeth and relegate it to his cheek before speaking.

"Police?"

"Mountie", Jack answered.

"I don't like law enforcement bothering me," the spoon player replied before spitting brown juice into a cup on the table.

"I don't image you would."

It was impossible to say which man knew it first. But both men knew it at almost the same time. As sure as Jack knew this man was the killer, the killer knew that Jack had somehow figured it out. And Jack knew that the man realized that Jack was onto him.

"We're ready to go," Elizabeth, blissfully unaware of the circumstances, said as she approached the two men. Her body was bent over and she was holding Thatch by both hands as he practiced taking tiny proud steps towards his father.

"No-!" Jack started to order Elizabeth away but it was too late. Bert lunged towards Elizabeth, pushing her stumbling sideways into Jack. Her fingers lost their grip on Thatch, and the man reached down and yanked the boy into his arms.

It took only a split second for Jack and Elizabeth to right themselves but by then they had already heard the sound of breaking glass as a bottle slammed into the wooden table. When they looked up, they both froze.

Alcohol poured out of the broken bottle onto the table and then ran in a stream onto the floor..

But that wasn't what rendered Jack and Elizabeth motionless.

They weren't even aware of the pool of clear liquid which was growing larger and larger on the floor while the bottle emptied out.

They were too busy focusing on Bert.

He was holding the jagged end of the broken liquor bottle to their son's throat.

* * *

"Set down the bottle. Now", Jack ordered as pulled out his weapon and pointed it. He held out his other arm to block Elizabeth from foolishly rushing forward.

"Throw me your weapon", Bert said with a scoff. He may have been kicked out of school in sixth grade, but it didn't take a genius to recognize that the boy in his arms would keep the Mountie from using his service revolver.

"Throw me your weapon!" he repeated more forcefully when Jack didn't comply with his first demand.

No." Jack retained his calmness. "I am not going to give a weapon to a man with my son in his hands."

"You want a dead little boy?!" The man's voice rang through the building which had become eerily silent except for the voices of Bert and Jack.

Elizabeth stood motionless but watched as patrons, confused by what was happening, took cover.

Elizabeth wasn't confused; she now realized who this man was. Why Jack had looked at the spoon from the shack.

Her eyes moved from her son to the killer to Jack and back again.

She didn't understand why no one was turning to look at her. They must be able to hear her heart pounding in her chest. She thought for sure that it was beating so loud that even the waitress who was now pressed against the back wall could hear it. That the couple taking refuge under their table were listening to the rhythmic pounding of her heart which seemed ready to burst from fear. That the bartender would want to put his hands over his ears to drown out the sound of her blood being pumped out of her aorta with a rush of panic.

It was impossible for her heart to beat normally. It was impossible for her to breathe.

Her son was being held in the arms of a killer.

A large and very sharp piece of glass was pushing against his tiny innocent neck.

 **Up next: Chapter 10**

 **P.S. How many of you guessed that the spoon would be the clue?**


	10. Chapter 10 - The Fight

**CHAPTER 10** **\- THE FIGHT**

"Throw it to me!"

The angry voice was directed at Jack, who kept his weapon pointed at the man who was holding Thatch. The man had stepped away slowly until his back was up against a table and he was ten feet from Jack.

"I told you. I am not going to give you my weapon," Jack said firmly. "You need to put down my son."

"I'll cut him!" the man threatened.

"Don't be stupid. If you hurt him, I shoot you dead. No doubt about it. No hesitation."

Jack made it perfectly clear that his role as a father surpassed any role as a law enforcement officer. "Now, let's handle this reasonably. Give me my boy."

"For the gun."

"I'll empty the chamber but I am not going to give it to you."

Bert scowled at Jack's statement. The two men stared at each other. Neither one willing to concede.

"Da Da", Thatch cried out as he looked towards his father to come get him.

"He's just a little boy. You have no fight with him. Let him go", Jack tried to reason.

The killer seemed to think about it for a moment. Trying to figure out his best chance of getting out of this situation as Thatch began fussing in his arms.

The small boy wriggled to get away from the killer. He stretched his little limbs towards Elizabeth and called in vain for her to come get him. "Mama." But it did him no good.

Elizabeth, her heart plummeting, remained motionless as she watched the horrible scene unfold.

"Empty it!" Bert demanded with a nod toward Jack's gun.

"My son", Jack countered.

"First, the gun gets emptied", the man ordered.

"Carefully", he added as Jack slowly opened up the chamber to his weapon. He tilted the gun and allowed the bullets to drop to the floor. One after another they made a clinking sound as they landed.

Thatch watched the bullets fall. Listening to the sound as they hit the floorboards. He was never allowed to go near the object in his father's hands. Much like the bee and the snake, the metal object with the small pieces was one of the few things he had been firmly told never to go near.

"Kick it away from you."

Jack obeyed the command. Slowly bending down and setting his service revolver on the ground before giving it a good kick. The weapon went skidding across the floor until it came to stop when it hit a table leg far away from both men.

Thatch, who had momentarily stopped fretting as he had watched the metal object skid across the floor, now became anxious again as his father- who must have clearly noticed that his son's arms were outstretched towards him– was not taking him from this other man's tight grasp.

"Now let my son go," Jack instructed. "I don't have a weapon. You can walk out of here. Just let him go."

"Da Da", Thatch whimpered but his father didn't make a move towards him.

"He's coming with me," the killer announced. "I'm going to take him for awhile. Just until I'm safe. I'll leave him somewhere for you." He gave a wry laugh. "You said that you're a Mountie. You'll be able to find him."

"I'm not going to let you do that," Jack said calmly. "Set him down and move away from him now and you won't be hurt. Make a move to take him with you, and you'll regret it."

The broad-shouldered man scoffed. At six-foot three inches and two hundred and forty pounds, he was used to getting his way. He had left his weapon in his hotel room to avoid calling unwanted attention to himself and because he didn't think that he needed it. Few people were willing to mess with a man of his size. Those that did usually regretted it. Or were dead and, therefore, unable to regret it.

Thatch didn't like anything about this situation. He strained to get out of the unwanted arm but the man held him even tighter. Squishing his little body into the man's thick torso.

"Da Da", the boy called out again in a pitifully sad voice but his father didn't look at him.

The killer, who continued to hold the broken glass dangerously close to Thatch's neck, sneered at Jack and then pressed the jagged shard against the toddler's skin. "Get out of my way."

"No. We had a deal."

The killer laughed. "Make a deal with the devil, and you'll always lose."

Elizabeth had no idea how Jack was able to remain calm when she wanted to scream, to throw things, to attack the man. To go back in time and never come to this town. Never enter this restaurant.

"Mama", Thatch desperately appealed to her. Thinking at least one of his parents still wanted him.

"Thatch, I need you to be still. Mommy needs you not to move. Don't move, baby", Elizabeth directed her son. She clenched her fists in an attempt to try to calm herself. She knew Jack was right. They needed to remain calm.

The small boy tried to obey his mother but it was too much. He had handled his encounter with a snake, living for days in an abandoned shack, and riding a horse for hours, but this was too much.

Neither one of his parents was coming to hold him.

His lips quivered, and quiet tears began to roll down his cheeks.

* * *

Elizabeth naively wondered if a mother's plea might convince the man not to hurt the precious boy. That maybe if she just begged him to let her son go, he would. He must have a mother of his own and understand the pain he was causing.

For a split second, the plea was on her tongue but before it reached her lips, she remembered that this was the killer who had shot one man face-to-face, and the other in the back as he ran. Both men had probably begged for their lives.

The man was barking orders at him, but Jack barely paid attention to the words. He had no intention of complying. Instead, he was judging.

Judging his distance to the man. The height of the man. The size of his neck. The area of his shoulder. The distance from his son to the man's neck.

Jack's hand went slowly to the table behind him. He kept his eyes on the man. Never breaking the gaze as his fingers blindly found what he was looking for.

Elizabeth noticed the slight movement of Jack's hand. Her heart seemed to catch in her throat because in that moment she realized what he was going to do.

"Da Da", Thatch cried out one more time, but Jack ignored his son's sorrowful plea.

An agitated Bert carelessly lowered the large fragment of glass from the boy's neck so he could shift the crying child in his arms.

Jack saw his opportunity and moved his arm.

* * *

 _Whoosh_

It happened so quickly that the other man didn't know what actually had happened.

He felt it but still didn't comprehend what had just occurred. Looking downwards, he saw the handle of the steak knife embedded in his neck. Blood was already seeping from the wound. Landing in drops and staining his shirt.

Before Bert could react, Jack rushed him and wrenched Thatch out from under the man's arm. Knocking the killer to the ground.

Jack practically threw Thatch into the arms of Elizabeth, who had sprinted forward. He wanted his son away from the killer as fast as possible and couldn't be concerned with being overly gentle. She caught the boy and clutched him to her chest. One hand behind his head as she protectively pressed him to her body.

The killer refused to give up without a fight even with a knife in his neck. Ignoring the pain, he yanked it out of his flesh and gratefully realized that it must have missed a major vein.

Unfortunately for Jack, the man was right; the steak knife which Jack had thrown with the precision honed from hunting squirrel, had missed the jugular. While it had caused injury, it wasn't incapacitating. At least not yet. The murderer grabbed Jack by the leg, pulling him down.

As Jack's shoulder hit the ground, the killer raised the blade, intending to thrust into the chest of the irritating Mountie.

A slice opened up in Jack's forearm as he blocked the attack to his torso and sent the knife flying from the man's grasp and disappearing from their view.

Bert, with blood dripping from his wounded neck, scrambled to his feet. His large-sized boots slipped on the mixture of alcohol, blood, and sweat which now glossed the floor beneath him. Before he could get to the doorway, Jack was on him.

Jack had years of living on a ranch and spending time in the outdoors, his Mountie training, and the primitive instinct to protect his family. But he was facing a killer who had four inches more in height, at least sixty pounds more in weight, and a strong desire to avoid the hangman's noose of Canada's judicial system.

The men traded blows while the patrons either sprinted from the room or remained hidden. When the man landed a punch in Jack's side, he was pretty sure that a rib was damaged. Another punch caught Jack off guard and he barely managed to grab the back of a chair to keep from falling.

He pounded his fist into the killer's torso. Hoping to cause some damage to the organs or bones beneath all the thickness.

As the man tried to pull away, he powerfully brought his knee against Jack's chin, sending his head jerking backwards.

Jack stumbled. He would have liked to have had more time to catch his breath, but he was standing between Bert and the door. The man charged at Jack, sending both men flying into a nearby table. Glasses and dishes crashed to the floor with the men.

"Help him! Somebody help him!" Elizabeth yelled.

But the patrons had no idea who Jack was. For all they knew, he could have been involved with the moonshine business, a dishonest banker, a criminal, or perhaps even an unscrupulous attorney. They had no desire to mix themselves into Bert's business.

Elizabeth watched as her husband, his back against the floor, had his face get punched again by the killer who now straddled the undersized Mountie. The killer's blood fell onto Jack, mixing with Jack's own blood which was seeping from his nose.

* * *

Elizabeth had no choice but to give Thatch away and help Jack.

She frantically looked around for something she could lift but which still had weight to it. Her eyes stopped on the large emerald-green colored Seltzer bottle with a metal top which was sitting on the bar.

 _I always did like emeralds_ , she thought as she hoisted the heavy bottle into her arms.

The killer, already weak from blood loss and exertion, fell forward onto Jack as the green glass cracked onto the back of his skull rendering him unconscious. All two hundred and forty pounds landed on Jack's smaller body crushing the air out of him.

Jack grunted under the weight and then heaved the man's limp body up enough to ease himself out from under it. His hand slipped in the killer's blood which was now pooling on the floor and joining with the bubbly seltzer water. Under other circumstances, the liquid concoction would have looked like a delightful cherry syrup drink.

Elizabeth bent down and grasped Jack on the arm, helping him up.

"Thanks", he said appreciatively as he breathed in deeply.

"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly as she looked at his clothes and face. Grabbing a cloth napkin from the nearby table, she began wiping Jack's bloodied face and shirt.

"I don't think it's mine", he replied as he looked down at his clothes.

"Yes, it is. Your nose is bleeding," she informed him as she reached for another napkin. "Pinch it. And sit down", she ordered.

"And your arm is bleeding too."

It wasn't until that moment that Jack remembered the pain he had felt when the killer had sliced his flesh. He looked down and saw the rip in his shirt.

"Is he okay?" Jack asked. He gestured towards Thatch while he obeyed Elizabeth and sat his hurt body down in a nearby chair. "Go check on him."

Elizabeth pushed her hair from her face and looked over her shoulder at the lady who was holding Thatch. The woman, herself taken surprise at the events, was unsuccessfully trying to sooth the crying boy.

"He's fine. Just a little scared", Elizabeth replied.

* * *

Elizabeth tightened the knot she quickly made in the napkin wrapped around Jack's arm. "I've stopped the bleeding for now. It shouldn't need stitches but we'll let the doctor decide", she declared before standing up and reaching for Thatch.

She quieted her son's sobs with a kiss to the head and by the simple fact that she held him securely and with confidence that everything was okay. With her hand, she wiped the wetness from his pouting face as he took deep breaths of air. His tiny shoulders moving up and down as he tried to recover from his tears.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth. That he was at risk. That I threw the knife. But it was our best chance of getting him out of the killer's arms. And I was pretty sure my aim was good. I wouldn't have thrown the knife if I thought it would hit Thatch."

"You don't have to apologize. I trust you. And your aim was good." Elizabeth sat herself down in the chair across from Jack and looked worriedly at his left eye which was already starting to swell. "You got him."

" _You_ got him", Jack said with admiration. "You're the one that brought him down."

"You would have beat him eventually. I just sped things along", she replied graciously with a smile. She gave him a light kiss on his lips, being careful to avoid any injured area.

"I don't like Thatch seeing me fighting." Jack looked at his son who was staring at him with wide eyes from a few inches away.

"He's going to be a Mountie anyway, he might as well get used to this stuff."

"What makes you so sure he's going to be a Mountie?"

Elizabeth scoffed. "For Pete's sakes, he just solved his first murder case and he's barely able to walk yet!"

* * *

Five minutes later when the local law enforcement arrived, the killer was still unconscious on the floor.

The three members of the Thornton family sat at a nearby table dealing with the aftermath of the fight.

Thatch sat on the lap of a female patron who had offered to hold him while Elizabeth had meticulously checked Jack for further injuries, and while Jack now gave a report to the officers.

Jack sat in the chair where he had been ordered to stay by Elizabeth despite ensuring her that he was fine. Even though his nose was no longer bleeding, she refused to let him stand up until the waitress returned with the doctor.

Elizabeth sat in another chair with her elbow on the table and her head resting in her hand. She was worn out.

She lifted her head and looked up at her husband in his torn bloodied clothes who was sitting across from her and giving a detailed statement to a young officer who was taking notes.

She looked at her son with his tear-stained face who was now happily sucking on his third sugar cube that the friendly woman holding him had popped into his mouth.

She looked at the broken table to her right; the broken chair to her left; the broken glass which littered the area; the messy floor with an upturned plate of spaghetti and spilt drinks from when the men had fallen onto a table.

She looked to the restaurant owner who was angrily demanding that someone pay for the mess.

She looked to the waitress who was loudly complaining to an officer that during the ruckus some diners had left without paying their bill.

And Elizabeth found herself wearily wondering.

Wondering why they had ever decided to go on vacation in the first place.

 **Up next: Chapter 10.**


	11. Chapter 11 -the sound of a vacation

**CHAPTER 11 – THE SOUND OF A VACATION**

"I think I'm going deaf," Jack announced as he stared at little Jack Thatcher Thornton who was banging on the ivory and black keys of the piano in the corner of the Thatcher mansion in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada.

Jack and Elizabeth had been in Hamilton for almost a week now. When they had arrived in the city, which was much bigger in population and size than Hope Valley or Bear Creek, they had taken a car directly to the Thatcher mansion.

The overly large and ornate home with its household staff and numerous rooms was the ideal place to relax. The spacious front room designed for entertaining society's elite with its wooden floors meant for dancing was the perfect place for a toddler to practice walking and roll a ball. And with seven bedrooms, maids' quarters, butler's quarters, a sitting room, a study, a dining room, and several other rooms, it was proving to be a never-ending place of adventure for little Thatch.

Elizabeth looked up from her the book in her lap and chucked softly. "What are you talking about? You are not going deaf."

"I'm really worried", Jack replied as he ran his finger in his ear, shook his head, and continued to apprehensively stare at his son. "He just does not stop. And does he have to be so loud? Maybe he's the one who's deaf."

"Why would our son be deaf?" an amused Elizabeth asked.

"Because he doesn't seem to have any idea how horrible that sound is."

"It's not horrible. He's learning."

"He's not learning. He's banging on the keys making noise.'

Elizabeth grinned and smiled. "Everyone has to start somewhere. That's the piano I learned on, and I am a wonderful piano player now."

"He better not get used to this lifestyle", Jack said with a chuckle and shake of his head.

"Why not?"

"Your family is spoiling him. Cookies. Toys. Ice cream twice a day. A grandmother who follow him around like he's the prince of England."

Elizabeth laughed. "She's enamored with him. He is awfully adorable."

"Loud and adorable."

"He's a happy baby." Elizabeth lowered her book at looked at him pensively. "It's remarkable considering what he's been through. He's handled everything so well."

"When we were in Stanleytown, you said he was going to be a Mountie. After this week, I have a feeling he might be more like a Thatcher."

"Because he likes the finer things in life?"

"Exactly."

Elizabeth gave Jack a self-satisfied smile. "If I remember correctly, so do _you_."

Jack couldn't help but chuckle. "I believe you are right. You were the most exquisite thing I ever laid eyes on." He set down newspaper and walked across the room until he reached his wife. Bending down, he softly touched her lips with his.

"Excuse me, should I take Master Jack for his bath", the woman's voice asked as she walked into the room. The housemaid refused to call little Jack Thatcher Thornton by his nickname "Thatch", and instead referred to him as "Master Jack". Whereas, his father was simply referred to as "Sir."

"Thank you, Sarah. And again, I'm sorry about last night's mess," Elizabeth replied as she and Jack broke apart. "And the messes every night. Perhaps he'll be better now that the novelty has worn off."

"It's perfectly fine, Ma'am," the young woman replied. "I've got three younger brothers and sisters myself."

Elizabeth looked at her son who had stopped banging on the piano keys and was now scrambling off the bench.

After his time in the shack and the river, he seemed to have turned into somewhat of a primitive child who believed that the mansion's large bathtub with plumbing was just a smaller version of a river. Every evening, he had happily spent an hour in the over-sized clawfoot iron tub. Splashing water to make waves. Pretending to be almost submerged. Theatrically letting the water cover his mouth and then sputtering for air. He had even managed to empty small rocks from his pocket and throw them into the water for a more familiar look.

After several nights of having their clothes drenched in the little boy's tsunami-like waves as they bathed him, Jack and Elizabeth had turned the duty over to the housemaid.

Jack watched as his son gleefully squealed when the maid announced that it was bath-time and stretched out his little arms for her to carry him.

* * *

"Elizabeth, when we were at the shack, you didn't trust my decision to leave you two and go for help", Jack said when he and Elizabeth were alone in the room.

"That's right."

"And yet, when we were at the restaurant, you trusted my decision to throw a knife at a murderer who was holding our son?"

"That's right."

"So, what made you think one decision was okay and the other wasn't?" he asked. The thought had been nagging at Jack for a few days now.

"Because you were wrong about leaving us in the shack and you were right about doing whatever you had to do to keep our son safe at the restaurant."

"That's not exactly an explanation", Jack remarked with raised eyebrows.

"Women's intuition," Elizabeth answered with a smile. "And I trust you. Sometimes, I just know better than you."

Before Jack could think of a response, two more individuals entered the room.

"Sir, Master Thatcher would like you to join him in the stables", the butler announced as he and Grace Thatcher walked in.

"The stables?" Elizbeth questioned.

"Yeah, your father wants my opinion on some of his horses", Jack responded.

"Are you sure that you're not really going to drive his new car again?", Elizbeth teased knowingly.

"Not this time. We almost got a ticket yesterday for speeding. Now that is something you never have to worry about with a horse", Jack replied with a smile.

* * *

While the males in the family were giving attention to horses and baths, Elizabeth pulled several articles of clothing from the bedroom closet floor, removed them from their boxes and bags, and began to neatly place them in a suitcase.

"The staff will do that, dear", Grace said from her seat on the mattress after the women had moved to the bedroom.

"Maybe you should have bought another suitcase. I don't think three will do it", Julie volunteered as she looking at the mountain of clothes.

"Maybe I went a bit overboard?" Elizabeth asked with a doleful expression.

"Nonsense", her mother replied. "You're pregnant, you've had a miserable time getting here, and you live in a town without suitable boutiques. Besides, your father and I like spoiling you. It was our gift."

"Thank you. We've had a wonderful time here. And not just the shopping. Or the museums. Or the day at the hair salon. It's just wonderful being with family."

it really had ended up being a wonderful vacation. In Stanleytown, once the police had taken away the moonshiner, who had killed his two partners in a fight over money, and the doctor had cleared Jack of any serious injuries, the family had spent an uneventful night at the hotel. The next morning, they had dressed in the same clothes which they had been wearing for a week and traveled to the nearest train depot. From there, it was just a half day trip to Hamilton. And Hamilton with its shops, restaurants, attractions, and doting family had been perfect.

* * *

"I think your family enjoyed having us here," Jack called out through the open door of the bathroom as he brushed his teeth later that night. "Despite Thatch breaking a couple dishes and that vase. And that incident with the fountain."

"They loved having us," Elizabeth replied. She crawled between the crisp white sheets on the king-sized bed, lay her head on her two down-filled pillows, and looked up at the rotating blades of the ceiling fan which was bathing her in a cool breeze.

"That dinner was delicious", Jack said as he entered the bedroom and pulled back the sheets on his side of the bed.

"I told you that I would have Cook make you the best filet mignon."

"Do you think instead of sending your old nanny, Nanny Naples, to Bear Creek, your parents can send Cook?"

Elizabeth laughed. "No. You need more of my cooking, not the Cook's. He'd have us fat in no time."

"How about moving your perfect pregnant body over closer to me? This bed is way too big."

Elizabeth and Jack both scooched over until they met in the middle of the mattress.

"By the way, I forgot to mention that Nanny Naples isn't coming after all," Elizabeth remarked as they lay on their sides. Facing each other.

Jack picked up a lock of Elizabeth's hair and twirled it around his finger. Then he let it unravel and slowly did it again as she continued to talk. "It seems that she's fallen in love and going to be staying here in Hamilton"

"What are you talking about? She wasn't in love last month when we found out your parents were sending her to us as a gift for a few months. You said she hadn't be in love since her husband died decades ago."

"Well she's fallen in love now."

"With who? How? In the last few weeks?!"

"Apparently she was here talking to mother about coming to Bear Creek when the police commissioner stopped by to talk to father about us missing. Mother and father left them alone for a few minutes when they got a telephone call from Viola. They got to talking - he's a widower - and I guess they hit it off pretty well. They've been having dinner together every evening. And Julie saw them at the park yesterday."

"So no nanny for us in Bear Creek?"

"Nope. But I figure we can manage. We've been doing okay so far."

"Better than okay", Jack grinned as he gently ran his finger along her cheek.

"We have to go home in two days", Elizabeth said quietly. She moved against him and rested her head on Jack's bare chest. His arm surrounding her. Despite having a fan and the window open, the weather was still warm enough that Jack preferred to not wear a nightshirt to bed. And Elizabeth wasn't about to argue with her good fortune.

Through the open window came the sound of birds and crickets and the occasional sound of a member of the household staff going about his or her business of taking out the trash, refilling the coal bins, or checking the grounds before locking up the house for the night.

Elizabeth loved these sounds. When everything seemed right in the world. Like another perfect day was coming to an end with the earth going to sleep before awakening to do it all over again.

"I wish we could stay a few days longer," she added as she inhaled Jack's clean minty breath.

"We need to get back to work."

"I know. This certainly has been a most interesting vacation."

"That's putting it mildly. That first week was horrible."

"It wasn't so bad. We had food and shelter. And each other."

"We did", Jack agreed and then kissed the top of her head.

"I am glad that it's all behind us. I never realized how much I enjoy having a roof over my head and a room with four walls, an actual floor, and a complete door. You know, none of it would have happened like it did if we had just heard the train whistle over the waterfall that first day."

"Or if Thatch hadn't found the spoon and then been enthralled by the killer making the music. I never even would have given it a second thought if he hadn't wanted to go over and watch."

"Who knew the clue would make such a surprising sound", Elizabeth said pensively.

"You know I was thinking that we only have two more nights in this big bed."

"Hmm mmm", Elizabeth responded.

"That's only two more nights of not sharing a bedroom with Thatch."

"He loves the nursery next door. I think mother outdid herself."

After sharing a bedroom for the first year of his life, and more recently sharing a floor for a week in the woods, Elizabeth and Jack had thought that Thatch would balk at the idea of sleeping by himself in the adorable nursery which had been decorated for him and Viola's children whenever they visited.

Thatch had taken one look at his room, accepted a kiss goodnight from his parents, and promptly ignored them.

To his credit, he had finally allowed Elizabeth to read him a bedtime story, but the moment she had said the words 'The End'", he had squirmed out from under the covers of his crib, and began placing the crowd of toy animals in various positions around him. It had only taken a minute for his parents' usual comforting arms and their supporting chests to be happily replaced by a teddy bear, a stuffed tiger, a stuffed elephant, and a stuffed monkey.

"Maybe we should take advantage of our privacy," Jack now suggested as he ran his fingers along one of Elizabeth's arms.

"What did you have in mind?"

"How about I give you a clue?"

Elizabeth smiled. "What kind of -"

Before she could finish her question, Jack had flipped over on top of her. Resting on his elbows, he looked down at her as she lay beneath his shirtless body.

 _I love being married to a Mountie,_ she thought as she admired his strong chest and the feeling of being trapped between his muscled arms. _Oh, heck, he could do anything for a living and I'd love being married to him._

"So, if I understand by your body language, you were thinking of -"

Jack's tongue running down her cleavage stopped Elizabeth in midsentence. _Darn, he's good_ , she thought in amazement.

"I think that -," Elizabeth started to speak again but this time Jack's mouth on hers silenced her. His mouth was warm and delicious. Leaving no doubt about his plans.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you talk too much sometimes," he murmured as he left her lips and began placing kisses on her neck.

"That's the teacher in me," she replied weakly. Her body was utterly defenseless against him. As usual, he could do whatever he wanted to her and she would enjoy it.

 _Oh my._

Elizabeth felt torn between laying there motionless and simply enjoying the incredible feeling of him covering her body with his hands and mouth, or of moving her own body and ravishing him.

It took her a moment, but as Jack moved farther down her torso, she decided.

 _Okay, first I let him continue with this. Oh my, yes. Then I ravish him_.

 _And when we get back to Bear Creek, Thatch gets moved into his own bedroom. We can give him the spot behind the long counter we had planned for the nanny!_ she thought happily before closing her eyes and enjoying her vacation.

The End

Dear Readers, I hope you enjoyed this vignette. I'm now off to work on my woolenslipper stories. 😊 ("Reversal of Fortune", and the brand new one "Out of this World".)

Dear Reader **JEPK:** If you've finished this story, you have read all 14 in lighting speed! So glad you've enjoyed them. I sent you some private messages but I'm not sure if you got them.


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